


The Bodyguard

by SakuraMinamino



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), BAMF Kirk, Betrayal, Bodyguard, Dark Kirk, Dark Spock, Hope, M/M, Romance, Slave Kirk, aggressive sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 187,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6809446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraMinamino/pseuds/SakuraMinamino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock is a hero to the empire after killing Nero and stealing their technology, so it wasn't a surprise that the empire would want to reward him for his loyalty. The only problem is, Spock knows that whatever he chooses will be used against him. Seeing a rather intelligent and attractive slave wasted on the arena, Spock chooses him to be his new bodyguard. Unfortunately, this slave is much more of a challenge than he could have predicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Met at the Arena

**Author's Note:**

> My story was deleted! (Goes off into a corner and cries) I love your comments and it hurts that they're all gone. Please if you can, rebookmark, rekudos, and recomment (yes I realize that they aren't words).

_Welcome to the weekly, Battle Arena match! The Empire's favorite form of entertainment! Today we have a David and Goliath matchup!_

_In one corner, we have the previous Gorn captain, Slar. Captured with his ship before it could self destruct, Slar has proved to be the boogeyman of many contestants. His thick skin is tougher than many of the sharper weapons contestants can get a hold of, and his strength makes close combat seem like a lost cause. We have one tough opponent here folks and already the gambling odds are with him, 2000 to 1._

_In the other corner is our David, smaller than most of our human warriors, this slave has proved his worth time and time again in the arena. James Kirk, quick on his feet and with his brain, has his work cut out for him with this match up, but can his wits protect him this time with such a daunting opponent? We hope not, but we do hope he gives a decent fight compared to Slar's previous opponents. It should be a blood bath tonight folks! Place your bets and find a seat. The match will be starting in 10 minutes._

The announcer's voice echoed off the rather dimly lit tunnel he would emerge from. He stood slouched, but rather than look defeated, James Tiberius Kirk looked impatient. Even with the metal cuffs chaffing his always bleeding wrists and phasers pointed at his back, he exhibited an air of confidence and rebellion. They told him that it wouldn't last. That within the first year in the arena, he wouldn't stand with his head held high, that he wouldn't have the look of defiance in his eyes. He proved them wrong.

The three years he had been here, he survived. Despite all odds, he kept going, taking out opponent after opponent. 39 fights later, he was still here. Still alive, still breathing, still waiting. Many of the other contestants who survived this long grew accustomed to this life within six months. After a year, if they were still around, they grew to love the battle. They lived for it.

Not him. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. He loved a challenge, and occasionally, his opponent would offer him one. Today's opponent would be a challenge, and he eagerly awaited this battle. All the spectators were hoping for a slaughter. They would get one. Just not from whom they thought. He would survive, no matter what.

The crowd's loud cheers reached him. He could make out the muddle of chants for Slar and surprisingly his own cheering section was loud enough to get through as well. It was only a matter of time. He would get free eventually. He refused to stay a slave and fight for other people's entertainment. He just had to bide his time a bit longer until he could escape. Until then, he would make the crowd love him, support him, and inadvertently protect him when he did.

* * *

Spock showed his identification to the burly guard standing at attention. With a quick glance, he was waved on through. The VIP room was like every other one Spock had seen. Two plush chairs were positioned in front of a transparent wall overlooking the arena, the décor was luxurious with gold and silver trims on the walls, and three servers hovered around an already seated man, working around the bodyguard beside the right side of the VIP guest.

Spock stepped forward, his own two Vulcan bodyguards standing on either side of him. He raised his gloved fist to his chest then extended his arm forward, slightly elevated and hand flat, palm down. "All hail the empire."

"May all bow down to the might of the empire," the seated man said. Spock looked over the man. It was the first time he had ever met Admiral Marcus in real life. His grey hair was slicked back, his aged eyes full of ruthlessness and mirth, and he was dressed to impress, wearing his dress uniform despite their location. The admiral had probably escaped some sort of function to gamble instead. The older human man had his right ankle resting on his left knee, bouncing his shiny black boot in an energetic rhythm. Despite the pent up energy, he seemed relaxed in Spock's presence, his cheek resting on his right fist in what looked like a bored manor. Not many were comfortable in the presence of Vulcans. Spock had a begrudging respect for the man. "Sit down, Commander. The show is about to start."

Spock sat in the overly plush armchair. It made having perfect posture impossible as he sank into the cushions. Annoyance flashed across his expression, but he managed to keep it mostly blank in the presence of this human. He was never a fan of these fights. It was easy to predict who would win and more often than not, the arena would choose its fights on which pair ups would sport the most blood rather than what would make a good fight. He didn't have to look through the program in his hand to know the Gorn would win against a human.

However, because custom demanded it, he put money down on the fight to appear more "human", an advantage that would work in his favor during this talk. Knowing the Gorn would win, he placed his bet on the human. He did not know what possessed him to make a losing bet. There was no logic behind it, though he could probably spin it that he wanted to lose on purpose to let the admiral's guard down around him, but he would be telling a falsehood. He could only sum it up as a whim or hunch. "Thank you for your hospitality, Admiral."

The admiral hummed, lifting his glass to have one of the servers fill it, a scantily clad human woman in what could barely be qualified as clothing with as much skin she was showing. Spock supposed he should be grateful she was wearing anything at all. "It was the least we can do after your victory against the Romulans. Nero had been a pain in our side since he showed himself 25 years ago. You however managed to not only defeat him, but get a hold of his futuristic technology. Progress has leapt forward almost a hundred years thanks to you."

"It was my pleasure to serve the empire," Spock replied, urging down his will to shred the chair to pieces. He would not be able to stand without lots of maneuvering with how far into the cushions he sank into. The Vulcan was 78.9 percent sure, Marcus chose this type of seat to annoy him and set him off balance.

The stadium went into an uproar that came through the intercom as the announcement for the battle started. The battle arena was a terra former simulation. The geography of the previously large dirt area with aluminum walls began to change, forming large rocky hills, mineral deposits, and a flat grassy area. The VIP room was immune to the rumbles the change in terrain caused in the lower areas. Throughout the battle field parts for weapons were strewn about along with barbaric primitive ones.

The two participants for the day's battle entered the stadium on opposite sides where they could not see each other. The roar got louder as chants filled the area, most chanting the name, "Slar! Slar! Slar!" Faintly, Spock picked up another name among the almost uniform chant of the Gorn's name. "Kirk! Kirk! Kirk!"

He was surprised there were enough fans of the human to cheer for him despite overwhelming odds. It was not logical. Far below he could see the small form of the human. It was not logical for there to be enough fans to be heard during this match. Curious, he turned his attention to the big screen that was currently displaying the human male.

He was small for a warrior to have survived three years. While he stood at average human male height, his build was slim. There was muscle of course, but it was lean, unlike the burlier, and therefore more successful, fighters. But it was the face that drew Spock's attention. He was handsome, beautiful even. The Vulcan had never seen such a shade of blue in a pair of eyes before. It was bright, almost glowing, a genetic mutation for sure. His face was mostly free of deformities and scarring, his hair, wheat gold, and his skin lightly tanned, probably natural. It even looked like he had all his teeth. Such beauty to exist in this place was unheard of.

"I know what you're thinking," the admiral said, picking out a hors d'oeuvre from a tray presented to him. "Why isn't he at a whore house?"

"It does appear to be the choice most would choose for a human of his appearance when selling a slave," Spock admitted.

"They tried. When he was brought to the selling block with that intention, he managed to kill three guards and wound a fourth while his hands were shackled after being deprived of food and water for two days. The arena owner happened to see the entire thing and made a deal for him. He hadn't disappointed either."

Spock's curiosity was peaked. "What is his crime?"

Marcus looked over at Spock for the first time, surprise on his face. "You don't recognize the last name."

Ah, so that's why. "I'm impressed he stayed off the markets for so long."

"His mother was good at hiding," displeasure marred his features. "Kodos was good for something at least."

Spock fell into silence, watching the beginning of the battle commence. The human did something strange. He bypassed the large primitive weapons available at the start and instead grabbed what looked like a pipe. Blunt force trauma, while a fan favorite, would not be the way to go in this battle. Surely the man knew this.

"So what would you like in compensation for your achievement, Commander? If we can get it for you, you will have it."

As Spock expected, he was called here to be offered an award. A trap really. He could not refuse without looking to be ungrateful to the empire's show of appreciation, but his choice would also give leverage over him. Power, money, and women would imply he could be bribed at the right price, and asking for a ship of his own would undoubtedly get him killed. The empire would never allow a Vulcan, even him, be in command of one of their ships without setting up a way to get it back. An assassination attempt most likely. The position he was in now gave him freedom, more than what most of his people had. He did not wish to jeopardize it. So what could he ask for?

He eyed the human making his way across the terrain, staying out of sight of his opponent. Most battles the two slaves fought head on, but this one thought differently. He was educated, using the terrain against his opponent heading for…

So that was his game. A smile cracked on the Vulcan's face having figured out the human's plan. He was wasted as a slave. Even though the crowd's loud booing for the lack of bloodshed was growing and Kirk's fans were turning on him for being a "coward", the human was not deterred as he made his way over the terrain. Spock would leave with quite a heavy wallet tonight. His whim happened to make quite a profit.

The smile gained the admiral's interest. Spock gave him no mind as he leaned forward in his chair, eyes still glued to the monitor. "I choose him."

The admiral frowned, following the commander's gaze to the large screen. "Kirk?" At the Vulcan's nod, he laughed. "I didn't know you swung that way, but he is easy on the eyes. Now I know Vulcans can be tempted with flesh just like any man."

"Incorrect. I want him as a bodyguard," Spock said, standing. There was no point in him staying now.

Marcus looked amused. "Sure, if he survives the fight, I'll give him to you."

"He will win in approximately 9.38 minutes. I will be in the infirmary to collect him in 12." Without another word, he left leaving the puzzled admiral behind.

* * *

He could hear him. The Gorn wasn't very graceful, at least not this type. It was one of the bulkier green one, built for strength rather than stealth like the smaller camouflage ones Jim had heard about. It still was fast though and had a much easier time maneuvering over the rocky hill. He would have grabbed a small knife, but he would be in trouble if the Gorn was close enough to use it. The lizard-like creature also had a heightened sense of smell, making it more difficult to evade.

Slar was becoming impatient though. Jim could hear it in his movements. There was frustration as the large lizard moved a rock with more force than necessary. He was close. Jim only had a minute before he was found, but he couldn't afford to move. His preparations were almost complete. He had successfully predicted which terrain they would use and planned accordingly. If they had gone with the dirt arena then he would have been in serious trouble. He'd have to thank Gaila for helping with that.

He picked up his pipe, having just finished preparing it, when he was grabbed from behind. He was yanked back and thrown several feet away, hitting his head as he fell down the hill. His vision swam, and for a moment he was disoriented as the world around him tilted, making his stomach lurch. The Gorn grabbed him by the leg, dragging him back into reach. Jim's shirt lifted, the rocks cutting into his back as he was dragged. The human fumbled to get his rock ready, still clutching the pipe in one hand.

Slar proceed to toss Jim around by his ankle. Kirk clenched his teeth in pain, feeling it snap. It wasn't the worse injury he ever had, but it still hurt like a bitch, but he refused to let go of his pipe. He just needed the right moment.

His body curled to protect himself when Slar finally let him go, letting his body fly into a large bolder. He protected his head that time. He could hear the crowd's applause for the display of violence. Well they'll have their fun now, Jim will be happy to take away their champion.

Before the human could get his bearings, Slar picked up Jim by his throat so that his legs were dangling off three feet off the ground and started to squeeze. The lizard snarled in Jim's face causing Jim to smile. Kirk lifted the pipe to Slar's face, and with a fluid motion, he ran the rock over the metal, causing a spark. The end of the mortar facing Slar exploded. Where once was a giant lizard head, twice the size of Jim's, was now filled with only empty space.

Silence filled the arena as the now, very dead, Slar released Jim from his hold. Jim fell to the ground hard, falling on his burned hands and tender skin. The make shift mortar rolled away, the smell of sulfur still heavy in the air. The audience suddenly went into an uproar full of cheering.

_I don't believe it! Kirk has literally blown the head off of his competitor! Using a pipe and sulfur from the mineral deposit, he made a very rough, homemade mortar. A risky gamble as too much sulfur could have blown Kirk away too! But he managed to pull it off with just some minor burns to his hands and chest. Our longest running champion defeated by a human in such a deliciously brutal way!_

Jim tuned out the announcer, carefully sitting up. The pain was tolerable, but he wasn't going to be able to walk out with his broken ankle. Nursing his hands in his lap, he waited for the stretcher that would take him to the infirmary, laughing to himself. He cost a lot of people a lot of money. It made him quite happy.

They carted him off to the competitors' infirmary. In a way, it was scarier to go to the infirmary than fighting the battles themselves. Slaves didn't get top grade treatments, and the doctors didn't care about the pain they caused while healing. There were no anesthesia and doctors happily took bets on when patients would pass out from the pain or how fast it would take for patients to bleed to death. A lot of competitor's would rather deal with their wounds and risk death.

Luckily, his wounds weren't too serious. Kirk could grind his teeth as the bones mended and had his skin regenerated. If he batted his eyelashes, the doctors might even care enough to keep him from scarring. Of course when the doctor tried to get "payment" for their generosity, Kirk would break their hand. People were so easy to manipulate.

Kirk was just brought into the infirmary, propped up on a table when someone entered. He had never seen this man before, nor did he look like any doctor he had ever seen. He was tall, with a dark, straight, orderly bowl cut. His eyebrows were slanted up, ears were pointed, and his skin was sort of pale with a greenish tint. He wore a dress uniform, long sleeved and bright blue with awards decorating his coat with black leather gloves and black pants to finish it off. He was obviously important, but it was his face that put Jim on edge. The man's face was blank except for his eyes. The chocolate colored eyes were filled with emotions. Restrained emotions contained in that lean body of his. Every sense in Jim told him that this man was dangerous, even if physically, Jim should be able to take him in a fight.

"Mr. Kirk, I commend you on your display of ingenuity during your match."

"Child's play," he replied warily. "If you know how to play the game."

The nameless man arched an eyebrow and for a moment, amusement passed through those constantly intensifying eyes. "Indeed. As of today, you will be released as a slave of the arena."

"Really," Jim said with obvious doubt lacing his tone. "What's the catch? I'm not going to become your whore if that's what you're saying. "

He felt the man's eyes roam over his body, taking in his shredded, grey tunic all slaves wore, his raw wrists, and messed up ankle. "I would not flatter yourself so much as you are quite unappealing in your current state."

"Fuck you, buddy. Just because no one would want to fuck your ugly ass doesn't mean you can try to insult me."

Anger seemed to flash across the man's eyes before it was restrained. "You will serve as my bodyguard," the man continued as if they hadn't gotten off track. And you will receive medical attention by the physician of my choosing."

"And if I refuse?"

The man's eyebrow quirked up condescendingly as if he was stuck explaining to a rather slow child. "You will find that I am a rather formidable opponent."

"As am I," Jim challenged back. "And I do not need your help to get out of here. I'll escape on my own one day."

"A futile attempt. You will either die in the arena or killed for escaping before you get far," the man said, walking further into the room with absolutely perfect posture and easy stride. He was obviously military the way he kept his shoulders squared and hands behind his back as if always at attention or intimidating an underling.

"Better than following you. And it's just you and me in here. Even injured, I could take your scrawny ass."

Amusement and challenge flitted across those eyes. "Prepare for departure, Mr. Kirk. My men will come to collect you shortly."

Jim should have left it at that and accepted his fate, but if he had accepted his fate before, he would have been sent to a whore house. He had no idea who or what this man was, and that made him an unknown. He knew the arena. He could survive until he escaped, but this alien did not hold the same guarantee. Drawing a scalpel he had swiped from a doctor before being admitted to his room, he threw it at the alien with deadly accuracy towards his head.

The alien turned gracefully as if expecting the attack, grabbing the scalpel out of the air, and crossed the short distance between them in an instant. The man's hand wrapped around Jim's neck and slammed him against the biobed. Having pinned the human down, the alien leaned over him, their faces inches apart. The man's eyes were alight with annoyance as he said in a very low and cold voice. "You will submit to me, Mr. Kirk."

The tone had Jim stop his struggling. He had underestimated this alien. He held as much power as the Gorn it seemed, but unlike the Gorn, this alien was intelligent, always calculating and anticipating, yet there was something savage underneath it all, animalistic and waiting to pounce upon his prey. And for the first time, Jim felt fear.

"If you do not behave, I will break you until you do. You can have faith in that."

The alien released him, allowing Jim to cough and get his breath back. The sight of the struggling and wounded human seemed to satisfy him. He backed away, getting ready to depart again.

"What are you?"

The alien paused and looked over his shoulder. "I am Vulcan." The fear intensified, and it must have shown on his face as the anger left the alien's eyes and was once again replaced with dark amusement. "You may call me, Mr. Spock. We will meet again onboard."

The Vulcan named Mr. Spock left the room just as two more Vulcans replaced him. It was then Jim realized that he was in serious trouble if Vulcans were involved. Whose attention did he catch to get himself in this position? He might not survive long enough to find out.

* * *

That was …interesting, Spock decided. He had not expected the human to be so lively. Slaves who have been captured for over a year rarely were. The deliberate defiance had been very unexpected. Something in him was eager for the challenge yet annoyed to be challenged. His two halves were once again arguing against one another, pushing for dominance.

They did agree on two things however. The first being that the human was going to be trouble. Despite the scare Spock gave him, the human would not back down from that alone. He would be more cautious in how he handled Spock making him more dangerous. The other being the urge to dominant him. Spock restrained the smile that tugged on his lips. He would make that human submit.


	2. And Exerted Your Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........... everything was deleted in some freak accident. I apologize on the inconvenience. As consolation, I am working on chapter 3. Hopefully it will be out in a few days if I can figure out how to get pass this second scene.

Kirk was not happy. No, unhappy would have been a severe understatement. First off, he had to walk on his own broken ankle. After Spock had left, he waited to be transported. It was almost an hour before that happened. An hour alone with two creepily silent Vulcans. He tried to prod them with questions, and when that didn't work, he just tried to get them to say anything. Neither Vulcan would budge. They just looked straight ahead. They didn't even shift their weight. Unnerved, Kirk was reduced to silence within the first 20 minutes.

With nothing to do and the adrenaline wearing off, the pain from being thrown around like a rag doll began to set in. His entire leg was simultaneously numb and throbbing. The muscles were strained and he would need to take it easy even after he retrieved treatment. His back however felt like it was on fire, and the cloth of his shirt kept rubbing against the wounds, setting them ablaze with every shift. His entire body was sore, and he was finding it harder to stay alert as the minutes passed. Finally, after he thought he could no longer take it, they beamed him aboard.

Once onboard, he was escorted to sickbay by the two Vulcans. While he could have asked for support, it wouldn't have been wise. First impressions were critical. Jim knew this well, and on this vessel, there would be nowhere to run and hide. He had to appear strong, using the Vulcans beside him to his advantage. With how beaten up he was, everyone would assume it was his escorts that graciously gave him his injuries. A lot could be said about a man who survived a beating from Vulcans.

During the short journey, several officers, both men and women stopped to take a look at him, some with curiosity, some with unconcealed lust, and most with weariness at the two who flanked his sides. Jim paid them no mind. He was focused on the ship, memorizing every corridor, every detail. This was not some lowly ship as Jim had expected with Mr. Spock being so high up on the command chain. This was a brand new ship with technology he had only heard about.

As much as he wanted to bask in the marvel around him, he was in too much pain to care. His main focus was to get to sickbay and try to figure out a new plan to get the hell out of his new predicament.

Sickbay was like any other sickbay Jim had been in during his lifetime. While this one was spotless, the place still held screaming patients and sadistic doctors if the sound of suffering and the smell of blood was anything to go by.

He was herded into a private room where a handsome young doctor with messy brown hair stood impatiently, tapping his foot. He didn't wear the traditional military scrubs. Rather, he wore baggy jeans with a worn t-shirt with a lab coat over it. His hair was messy and sticking up in every direction giving him the appearance of having just rolled out of bed, and his stormy, grey-blue eyes glared at him the second they landed on Jim. "About damn time. Did you green-blooded bastards decide to take a fucking nap on the way here? I've been waiting a goddamn half an hour."

The Vulcans said nothing, which Jim was growing used to at this point. With a nod, one of the Vulcans left while the other covered the entrance to the room.

"Don't just stand there. Make yourself useful and help him up on the biobed," the doctor snapped at the Vulcan. Of course, the Vulcan did not move from his spot, just watched them with his blank expression. "Fucking useless."

"Don't sweat it, doc," Jim turned his back to the biobed and hopped on, giving him a suave smile.

"Don't bat those baby blues at me, kid," the doctor, raised a tricorder. "If that fucking alien bastard didn't order me to take good care of you, I'd let you sit here over night and suffer."

"Come on, doc. It can't be that bad treating me," Jim leaned forward.

"Don't push your luck kid. You may be attractive, but not everyone is bi or gay." The doctor picked up the dermal regenerator and started on his patient's burns first. "And the game you're playing is a dangerous one. Especially when the doctors you're trying to flirt with have every medication available to knock your ass out and rape you ten times 'til Sunday."

Jim stopped his flirting for a second. Did this doctor actually warn him to be careful? Slowly, a smile spread over his face. "I like you."

"You're annoying." The doctor stabbed him with a hypo to the back of the neck.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know," after treating his burns and scrapes, the doctor kneeled in front of Jim to take care of the ankle. "I just don't like you."

"Aw, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." The soft growl emanating from the doctor caused Jim to laugh. "What's your name?"

"None of your goddamned business. That's what."

"Alright, Bones it is."

Annoyed, the doctor twisted his ankle sharply back into place, making Jim shut up for a few precious moments. "Finally, an off switch."

When Jim didn't respond, the doctor looked up and cursed. Jim's face was swelling in an allergic reaction very quickly, his lips already three times their normal size and hives appearing all over his body. Fumbling for the appropriate hypo, he stuck the slave's neck again, hearing the device hiss upon injecting the contents.

The doctor exhaled slowly in relief, until he saw Jim's hand begin to bloat next. "Ooooh, so that's what that hypo does."

Jim glared. "I'm not your guinea pig. Fix this!"

"Keep your panties on. I'm sure one of these hypos will eventually work," the doctor smiled sadistically. "Just sit back and relax."

* * *

Spock stood at attention in Pike's quarters, waiting for the man to speak. Pike was lounging in his desk chair, going over a report in his hands. At Spock's entrance, the captain looked up lazily to acknowledge him before keeping him waiting for the next ten minutes.

When he finished the report, the elder man leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. Both mismatched eyes, focused on him, one blue, the other milky white. "Is there a reason I'm receiving complaints from the arena owner about his most prized fighter being pilfered by our ship, and why I wasn't informed about our new guest?"

"I did not wish to inform you until the proper paperwork was finished and filed. As the arena owner was more than reluctant to release his new champion, the process is taking longer than planned," Spock replied flawlessly. If Spock was a lesser being, he would feel uncomfortable with the hawk like attention. Such scrutiny never worked out well for those on the receiving end, especially from Pike.

"I should have you thrown in the agony booth for withholding information from me, Commander. But you have raised my curiosity," Pike smiled wryly at that. "What type of slave catches my stoic first officer's attention?"

"The empire demanded that I chose a reward. That is all."

"But a whore Spock─"

"Bodyguard," he corrected, earning a dark glare from the captain, warning him not to interrupt again.

"A piece of flesh to do what you see fit with," the captain continued, "is very human for you. You have been offered men and women before of all shapes and sizes, and you didn't bat an eye. It makes me curious about your motives."

"My motives remain the same, Captain, to remain alive. I was required to choose a reward. I did not desire anything they offered, so I chose what I deemed to be the least troublesome solution that still exploited the empire's authority like they wanted me to."

Pike eyes narrowed as if he wasn't convinced. "A very logical solution, Commander. However, any trouble he causes, you will be accountable for."

"I am very aware. I am taking precautions as we speak."

The lack of fear on Spock's part always aggravated the captain. Everyone feared Captain Pike's veiled threats, and the fact that his XO never seemed bothered by them, infuriated the man to no end. The captain's face contorted into that of malicious glee, "A part of me really hopes that new slave of yours sticks a knife between your ribs. One can only hope."

Spock said nothing in response. Failing to rile Spock up yet again, Pike dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "I want those papers within the hour."

"Yes, sir." Spock saluted, did an about face, and left, making his way to sickbay. He knew Pike's threats to him were lukewarm at best. Pike had never once sent him to the agony booth even when Spock was borderline insubordinate. And while Spock may have been able to hide behind technicalities and regulations, others have been sent for less. It wasn't because of professional courtesy or begrudging respect, but of fear. Fear of angering a Vulcan and the retaliation that could come with it. It was because of that fear that Spock did not hold any feelings toward Pike; rather, he was indifferent to the man. As long as they stayed out of each other's way, Spock would inform him of any assassination attempts on his life to secure his position, nothing more, nothing less.

He stepped into sickbay expecting his new bodyguard to be healed, dressed, and ready to go. Instead, his new captive was throwing up in a receptacle in his lap, face red and drenched in sweat. Immediately, Spock locked onto the doctor with cold fury. "Explain."

The doctor took a moment to recover from the Vulcan's tone, quickly calculating how to save his own neck as most humans did when Spock was questioning their competency. The doctor did not allow Spock to intimidate him for long. He quickly scowled and shoved a finger into Jim's chest. "Don't blame me. This one has an immune system more touchy than a forty year old replicator." As if to emphasize his point, he shoved his PADD into Spock's chest for him to look over. "If you ask me, this kid's more trouble than he's worth. If you want my medical opinion, return him and get your money back."

Spock skimmed the document. This did boast a problem. It made Jim very easy to kill if an assassin just so happened to use any drugs on him. "He is non-refundable," he replied, handing the PADD back to the doctor.

The doctor was unable to tell if Spock was joking or was completely serious. Since Vulcans didn't joke, he settled on the later. "Sucks to be you."

"I am right here you assholes," Jim muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Spock's attention switched to his slave, fixing the same stare on him that intimidated many of his subordinates. "As of today, you are my bodyguard. Once you have changed into your uniform, Serik will show you to your quarters. You are to report to me at 1700 so I may inform you of your duties, responsibilities, and regulations I will bestow on you. Tomorrow at 0500 you will meet Serik for training."

Jim set the receptacle aside, smirking at Spock as if the Vulcan hadn't strangled and pinned him down only an hour before. "And if I refuse? Or better yet, if I kill you?"

"You should find yourself quite invested in my well being." Spock rolled up his sleeve to reveal a thin silver bracelet. "Doctor McCoy has injected you with nanobots that respond to this bio bracelet. Should my vitals drop below acceptable levels, you will find yourself in immense pain. Should I die, the nanobots will have you share my fate." Spock paused long enough to observe the fury burning in Jim's eyes, body stiff with repressed rage. "Should you become separated from me, after a certain amount of distance, you shall meet a similar end. If the bracelet is removed or deactivated without a code, you will also parish."

"You're bluffing," he whispered.

Spock stood until he was within arm's reach of the human. "Vulcans do not lie."

Jim wanted to ring his neck. The bastard was mocking him, standing close enough for Jim to attack, proving that he had bound Jim with another set of shackles, ones Jim could not remove by himself. "I wouldn't stand there if I were you." Jim said levelly, meeting Spock's gaze.

"Know when you are beaten, Mr. Kirk. I am your new master and you will do as I─" Spock never finished as he was interrupted by the sudden splatter of human bile on the front of his uniform. Spock's mouth worked wordlessly, shocked into silence that someone dare vomit on him.

The human responsible smiled as he fought back the heaving for another round, wiping his mouth with his ruined tunic. "I tried to warn you," the human said unapologetically. Doctor McCoy was trying to stifle his own laugh behind his hand, turning his head away but unable to suppress his shaking shoulders.

Putting his hands behind his back, Spock took a step away from Kirk. "Sovik, escort him to his quarters and ensure that Mr. Kirk is on time to his meeting."

The Vulcan guard took Jim by the arm and hauled him off the biobed, not caring when Jim almost collapsed and continued to drag him out the door.

The commander took the opportunity to strip himself of his command jacket, careful not to get any of the bile on his person and taking the moment to regain his composure. He would see to it that the jacket was burned. More pressing matters were that the human had bounced back from his little scare quite quickly, and unlike Spock's prediction, the human had acted as if Spock held no threat towards him even though he knew otherwise. Was the win at the arena a fluke and the human was really intellectually challenged?

"I thought Vulcans couldn't lie," McCoy commented, calling in a nurse to clean up the mess Jim made.

"I did not lie," Spock said, carefully making his face blank. "He was injected with the nanobots."

"Until he had an allergic reaction to them, and I had to give him something to get it out of his system. The vomiting should stop in another hour by the way." The amusement had yet to leave the doctor's eyes. Out of everyone on the _ISS Enterprise,_ Doctor McCoy was the only one who did not walk on eggshells around him. That of course didn't mean that the man didn't fear him, he was just willing to push him farther before he backed down, and Spock found the doctor to be quite creative, using many primitive techniques during his interrogations. Spock borrowed a few of those techniques himself, improving them to cause the most pain.

At this moment, however, Spock was irritated at the doctor's jovial mood, or rather the reason behind it. "Do you not have work to do, Doctor?"

Hearing the clear dismissal in his voice, the doctor took his chance to leave before Spock decided to send him to the booth. He did however mutter under his breath. "Damn psychotic green-blooded bastard."

Whether Spock was intended to overhear it or not, made no difference. The doctor, despite his appearance and attitude, was the best on the ship. It would be a hassle to replace him, especially when Spock knew he was all bark until he was able to get a person onto his examination table, and Spock had no plans to ever be in that predicament.

Tossing his soiled jacket to a nurse, he ordered for it to be incinerated before leaving sickbay.

* * *

Things could have been worse. Jim wasn't sure how at the moment, but he was sure it was possible. But at that moment, his body was convinced he was dying. His throat was raw, his body felt heavy and uncooperative, and his brain was pounding in his skull, threatening to crack it right open.

The only comfort he had in his misery was that he had his own room. It was pathetically small. It barely fit his twin bed and small table for meals. The mattress was hard, the linens itchy, and the small bathroom attached was so tight there was no way for a second person to even stand in the room, but it was his. He didn't have to share and it was warm. No more cold stone floors or cold cell bars. No more holes to shit in. His broom closet of a room may have upset others, but to him, it was a paradise. And he didn't even have to share with anyone. How long since he had that privilege?

Miserable and too tired to argue, he accompanied his escort when the Vulcan came to his door at exactly five minutes before his appointment with his new master. His hope was that the sooner he got the meeting over with, the sooner he could back and sleep.

Spock's quarters appeared to be at the other end corridor, a quick three minute walk. The other Vulcan guard that always seemed to accompany Spock was standing just outside of Spock's quarters at attention. He barely acknowledged Jim's presence, glancing at the human before stepping aside to let him through. The door slid open with a soft whoosh.

Jim's escort took his post on the right side of the door, leaving Jim to enter on his own. Willing himself to forget his discomfort, he stood up straight and entered, keeping his gait smooth and casual.

Spock's room was sweltering. It had to be at least 40 degrees Celsius. Jim was already starting to perspire. The next thing Jim noticed was that the air was filled with the smell of foreign incense. It didn't help his lingering nausea, but he made an effort to keep his stomach settled. Throwing up on his new master once was already pushing it. He wasn't suicidal.

Lastly, the dim red tinged lighting gave the room a sense of mystery. It felt like he stepped onto another planet.

"You really are an alien bastard," he murmured.

"Believe it or not, human culture is not the only culture out there, despite what the empire tries to advertise," Spock replied. He was sitting behind his desk, typing away on his PADD.

"That's pretty rebellious for a Vulcan," Jim smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be the empire's lap dogs?"

Spock's eyes narrowed just slightly. "I do not believe you understand the situation you are in."

Jim smiled. "I understand my situation perfectly. I'm your new bodyguard and my life is in your hands." He sat on Spock's desk. "If I let every person who owned me push me around, I wouldn't be here." He stared the man down across from him. "And I would have died in that fight." A smirk played on his lips. "But I think you already knew that."

Spock merely lifted an eyebrow at his accusation, but he didn't deny or confirm. The human couldn't tell what was going on in that head of his other than that the Vulcan was calculating how to deal with him. At this point, normally Jim's masters would have become impatient. It was strange, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. At the arena he had manipulated a response, challenged him, and seen emotion in those eyes. Now, Spock was carefully controlled as if regarding him as an adversary needing to break rather than a slave.

Again, Jim thought this man was dangerous. It took quite a bit of trouble for people to become weary of him, and this man was seeing him as a threat after only a few brief meetings. Too far. He had pushed too far too soon.

"The rules and restrictions I place on you, Mr. Kirk, are as follows," Spock spoke with smooth emotionless tone, not rising to Jim's bait. "You are to report to Serik everyday for training. If you are tardy, Serik will deal with you as he pleases. Be aware that Vulcan's strength is 3 times stronger than humans despite our appearance." He paused just enough to let it sink in before continuing. "You will not be able to stop whatever punishment Serik decides to give.

"You are only to obey orders from me. If you receive orders from Captain Pike, inform me about them. You are not to leave this ship without orders from me and an escort. You are to report to me immediately when called and dismiss just as quickly. You will have three meals a day in between your duties. Do not harm any of the crew members unless your duties require them or in self defense. And lastly, you will have one day every seventh day from now to rest and do as you please."

The last part was unexpected. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "I get a day off?"

"Humans are inefficient creatures," the Vulcan looked back down at his PADD and continued typing. "I find that you get the most out of them if they have a day to rest once a week. However, the following rules still apply those days as well."

The confirmation stunned him enough that he went silent. Long enough that the silence drew the Vulcan's attention. "You may go now."

Slowly, Jim slid off the desk, and left without a word. Now wasn't the time to push. He needed to get the Vulcan unguarded. For now, he would leave. He wasn't at the top of his game right now. He needed to think this one through. But there was one thing he was certain of, he would break that stoic mask, and he would have fun stringing the green blooded bastard up by his pointy ears.

* * *

"You're late."

"And you're annoying," Kirk muttered, yawning loudly. Seriously, who woke up at the ass crack of dawn, so to speak?

Before he knew it, he was on his back looking up at the ceiling, his head pounding from where it impacted the ground.

"You will address me as, sir or Mr. Serik." Serik was tall, taller than Spock and thinner as well, but Kirk wasn't going to be fooled by appearances again. He hadn't even seen the move that took him down. "Get on your feet. We will start on today's lesson."

It took about five minutes to realize what punishment Serik had chosen for him. The training was brutal, and Kirk was on the verge of tears. There was little instruction. He would stand up, and Serik would use a move on him that would have him on the ground and in pain. One thing was perfectly clear though. Serik could snap his neck or break his arms with little effort if he wanted to, and Serik was stopping just short of doing just that. Jim knew this was a warning as Serik pushed his shoulder back into place after it became dislocated. If he was late again, Serik wouldn't hesitate to break him.

The session lasted an hour. After five minutes, Jim was sure he was tasting blood, and after thirty he was having trouble seeing straight. His body was screaming in pain, but he refused to make a sound if just to satisfy his own pride. He couldn't even get a punch in, and the humiliation he felt from getting his ass handed to him was consuming.

"Serik, he has had enough. I doubt Dr. McCoy would be willing to treat his injuries again so soon."

Tilting his head, Jim made out Spock's form through his blurry vision. The Vulcan was standing at the entrance to the training room, looking down at the human with what Jim thought was a condescending look, or maybe he was just projecting. "I am certain he will be on time tomorrow."

The rebellious part of Jim wanted to show up late again, just to protest that statement, but as he maneuvered his body into a sitting position, he knew he would show up on time tomorrow. While this wasn't the worse condition he had ever been in, his body wouldn't be able to take it every day. Even at the arena, his fights were at the minimum a week apart, and he was rarely this overwhelmed in a fight.

"I require your presence. Be presentable in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes went by quickly. Kirk managed to drag himself to the gym showers. The first five minutes, he stood under the cold spray, letting it numb his injuries before he tried to scrub off the remaining sweat and blood.

When he exited the shower, a dermal regenerator and a clean pair of clothes was placed neatly on the locker bench. The dermal regenerator was suited for minor injuries and found in most standard first aid kits. It took care of majority of the bruising and cut skin gained during his "training" session. The clothes consisted of a red, security shirt and black uniform pants with matching boots. Unlike the other security uniforms, his lacked the insignia and medals.

After dressing, and subsequently feeling more human, he stepped out of the locker room to see Spock waiting for him, hands behind his back.

"I'm not late this time," Jim scowled.

Spock didn't respond, only glanced over the human's body before turning on his heel and walking away. Assuming he was supposed to follow, Jim reluctantly did so.

Their destination was unexpected. Jim had guessed he would have to stand and watched the alien work for hours or maybe stand guard someplace. He hadn't expected to be dragged to the prison area of the ship.

Walking through two checkpoints, where Jim was searched but not the Vulcans, Jim found himself in a room with a man strapped to a table in the center in nothing but a pair of regulation briefs. He stopped at the door, not wanting to follow the Vulcan further. Spock didn't seem to mind, and the human realized that he wasn't supposed to when the other two guards took position next to him, blocking the exit.

"Sulu, have you managed to receive any information from him?" Spock asked circling the captured prisoner to stand next to a tray of various medical instruments.

A young Asian man with his red security uniform frowned at Spock. "No, sir, but with a little more time, we will have what we need."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Sulu. I will finish the interrogation."

At Spock's announcement, the officer's frown turned more into a scowl. With effort, he managed a strained smile. "Commander, with all due respect, there's no need to waste your time on this low life."

Spock turned to Sulu. "I will finish the interrogation," Spock repeated, giving nothing away in his expression. His blank stare eventually made the other man back down first.

"Yes sir," was Sulu's tight reply. He saluted and walked out quickly, but not before Jim caught the dark look in his eyes.

"Mr. Redford, it will be simpler if you told us what you needed to know," Spock's voice pulled Jim's attention back to the prisoner.

"I have nothing to say to the likes of you."

Spock stood regarding the prisoner for a moment. The human, restrained on the table by his arms, legs and torso, had bags under his light green eyes and a pale complexion. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily.

Spock then turned his attention to the tools. "You will talk, Mr. Redford. It is only the matter of using the right methods. Doctor McCoy?"

The young doctor carted in another set of instruments, none that Jim recognized. They were much more primitive. The cart that had been there before, the one with newer technology including an agonizer, was taken out of the room, then the doctor returned to gag the prisoner.

"It is imperative that we keep you from killing yourself in case your will does break," Spock explained. His gloved hands picked up a long slender needle. "Torture devices in this day in age are designed so that any person with minimal training can operate them. While efficient, it loses the potency and psychological torture of the more barbaric methods. And very few people are trained to withstand them. Fortunately for you, we don't have time to do something cleaner and therefore longer."

Spock placed the needle down and picked up a knife instead. "Shall we start with the thousand cuts?"

For seven hours, Jim watched the Vulcan cut slowly into the man's flesh, methodically and perfect, removing small sections of skin, starting with the chest, removing the nipples then sides of the abdomen, then parts of arms and legs. The prisoners muffled screams filled the room, but with the gag, he couldn't beg the Vulcan to stop even if he wanted too. The cuts were done so perfectly, there was little blood and little cause to stop the torture for any reason. This continued until there were large patches of skin missing and the human looked like a living anatomic model.

With only a 15 minute break in between, Spock switched torture methods. Inclining the table just slightly, and removing the gag, he placed a thin cloth over Redford's face, and proceeded to dump water over his face. This seemed to cause a bigger reaction from the tortured man. While he had screamed for the previous torture and struggled, it was out of pain. This was more of fear. He fought desperately in a panic, pulling against his restraints until they cut into his body, aggravating his wounds.

While this only continued for an hour, when Spock removed the cloth, the man was a sobbing mess, begging for no more, that he would talk, words fumbled out practically incoherently, but Spock didn't interrupt as he listened.

Jim felt a chill. The entire eight hours that he watched, he could not tear his eyes away from Spock's face. The Vulcan had the expression of a curious scientist testing his hypothesis.

"That will be all Mr. Redford." It was the first time the commander had spoken since it all began. "There is just one last thing." Spock took off his right glove.

The prisoner's eyes widened in fear. "No, Mr. Spock. I told you everything I know. That isn't necessary." Redford made futile attempts to jerk his head away from Spock's hand as slender fingers touched temple, cheekbone, and jaw.

"No! Please!" And suddenly, the prisoner's gaze glazed over and his protests became silent.

Silence permeated the room and even when Spock pulled his hand away, the vacant expression didn't disappear from the prisoner's eyes. "He lied about where he sent the money to in his confession. It's on Alpha Terra VI. Not Risa. There are also 25 members, not 12." Spock's eyes met with Jim's.

Jim quickly looked away, turning his head to break the connection. Spock knew how to play the game well. Jim knew that now. Spock didn't have to spend the day torturing this man; he could have grabbed the information whenever he wanted to. The Vulcan wanted to show what awaited Jim if he ever betrayed him, he wanted to instill fear. Fear of being tortured like that, and fear of having his mind raped and broken.

And it worked.

It took everything in Jim not to shake where he stood, not to flinch away when Spock approached, standing less than a foot away. "If you would doctor, finish the rest. His organs should fetch a small price for your troubles."

"Clean up the mess you made before you go, stupid sadistic freak," the doctor grumbled.

He didn't want to have his mind raped. Jim's gaze didn't leave Spock's hands until Spock put his glove back on. He was too powerful. He was strong, fast, intelligent, and had the ability to break him physically and mentally. And he managed to insert this fear in Jim without laying a single finger on him.

"Are you not coming, Mr. Kirk?"

Spock's voice made the slave jump, turning his head to look at the commander in a reflex. Spock was already partially through the door, an eyebrow raised and obviously waiting on him. Before Jim knew what he was doing, he fell in line in a hurry.

* * *

If there was one thing that James T. Kirk didn't like, it was the feeling of being caged. That damned Vulcan made his point loud and clear with his little demonstration yesterday. He felt fear. James Kirk felt fear of being caught by that bastard. It was unacceptable.

Over the night, that fear turned to anger. He wanted nothing more than to kill the bastard who made him feel that disgusting emotion. He slept little due to dreaming of being tortured by Spock or of killing the Vulcan through strangulation.

What was worse was he could do nothing about his built up emotions, and the smug bastard knew it. Spock walked in front of him, gloves still in place, Jim found himself glancing frequently at those hands to make sure, and Sovik walked in the back with him. It was barely noon, and Jim's stomach was already growling in hunger. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and didn't complain. Spock said he would get three meals and missing breakfast was his own fault as he had woken up late and almost missed his sparing session again. Spock was many things, but for some reason, he didn't think lying was one of them.

Spock suddenly stopped to salute, and Jim stopped as well, eyes widening in surprise at the man standing in front of them.

"Commander Spock, I hear you headed the interrogation yourself," Captain Pike smiled.

"Yes, Captain. I sent the report to your PADD at 0700 this morning."

"I'm sure you did, Spock." Captain Pike turned his gaze to Jim, his smile growing wider. "So it really is you, kid."

Spock turned his gaze to Jim as well. The human was looking downright murderous; both bright blue eyes had turned dark, his fists clenched at his sides as if restraining himself. "I thought the name Pike sounded familiar. Didn't think it was you," a cruel smile etched its way onto his face. "Chris."

"I see you still have a mouth on you." By passing Spock, the captain approached Jim, grabbing his chin. "I bet it's as good as your mother's too."

Jim was a second away from slugging him when Spock's grabbed Pike's wrist. "If you would, Captain, please refrain from touching my personal belongings."

They stared each other down before Pike pulled his hand away. "Walk with me," the captain commanded, turning around to continue down the hallway.

Spock paused long enough to say, "Return to your quarters," to Jim. The slave looked ready to protest, his eyes still locked onto the captain who was drawing farther and farther away from him. Finally, Jim turned around and headed down the opposite direction towards his quarters at a brisk pace.

With a few long strides, Spock was able to match his steps with Pike, keeping a few steps behind. "Is there something you wished me to do, Captain?"

"That slave, do you plan to test him?"

Spock glanced at the captain. "I don't know what you mean."

"You always send out the people you plan to trust on a new mission to assess their loyalty, skills, and actions under pressure. You think I didn't notice?"

"I do not keep it a secret nor do I advertise it. However, I do not plan to have him accompany until a week from now."

Pike handed Spock a PADD. "This is the new mission and my plans for it. Make sure that brat doesn't interfere."

Spock took the PADD with his left and saluted with his right, "Yes Sir."

Spock waited until Pike had turned the corner down the corridor before wondering how his captain and new bodyguard knew one another.

* * *

His nerves wouldn't settle. As Jim hurried to his room, the agitation just kept building underneath his skin into a constant buzz that was driving him mad. First that alien and now him! Of all people to run this ship, it had to be fucking Pike. He never even considered the Pike that Spock had spoken of and that Pike were one in the same. It was a relatively common surname, and he had thought the bastard had been killed.

So focused on his task to get back to the sanctity of his room, Jim was oblivious to the human stalking him until it was too late. Jim was shoved up against the wall, his right arm pinned to his back uncomfortably, pulling at the tender muscles that had been overused during his sparring match the previous day.

"When I heard the Commander had a new bodyguard, I didn't think he'd be so weak."

Jim couldn't see his attacker, but he could feel the pudgy fingers of the sweaty hands that held him and the heavy breath that tickled the back of his neck. "Who the hell are you?" he gritted out.

The attacker disregarded the question instead using his free hand to grope Jim's crotch. "At least the bastard has good taste. I can't wait to see his face when he realizes his little human whore has been defiled by someone other than himself."

A laugh bubbled up from Jim until it grew into something borderline hysterical. The reaction was not what the attacker expected, and Jim turned his head to get a better look at his attacker, lowering his eyelids into almost a seductive gaze. "You really choose a bad day for this shit."

Jim stomped on the man's boot then elbowed him with his left elbow in the solar plexus, the attacker stumbled back, giving Jim enough room to maneuver behind his attacker and slam his head against the wall. The man barely had enough time to cry out in pain when Jim stomped on his knee at an angle, breaking the leg with a loud crack. Jim proceeded to throw the man on to the deck, mounting his back and grabbing the man's right arm and twisting it until it broke as well. "I'd like to see you cop a feel with your arm fucked up like that," he said almost playfully under his sadistic grin.

Jim removed the knife on the man's belt and held it to his neck. "Now what did we learn?"

The broken man could only whimper from the pain.

"Now you know that this "little human" isn't the weak link." The slave glanced up, catching sight of one of the Vulcan guards watching him. "And tell your Vulcan masters that if they want to test me, send a man to do the job right."

"They're your masters too!" The man spat until Jim put pressure on his ruined leg.

"I'm not owned by anyone," he growled, putting more pressure on the leg until the man was screaming. Satisfied, he got off the man and continued to his quarters. Despite the test, the buzz under his skin was gone. He wasn't defenseless. If they sent that idiot then there was a chance that they still underestimated him which meant he still had a chance for escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please recomment. TT.TT


	3. I Won't Tell if You Don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story somehow got deleted! Sorry about that. Here's the long awaited chapter 3.

Sovik stood at attention in front of Spock’s desk, back ramrod straight and features blank. Spock would have thought nothing of it if not for the sound of creaking leather behind the Vulcan’s back. Sovik was in fact nervous.

Placing his PADD face down and steepling his fingers, Spock spoke. “You staged an attack against Mr. Kirk.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Explain.”

Sovik stood at attention, nothing in his posture giving away what the Vulcan was thinking. Sovik looked exactly like his twin brother Serik. Majority of the time, no one could tell them apart. A Vulcan perhaps could catch the subtle differences between them 50.8 percent of the time, namely the almost invisible scar above Sovik’s left eye. He was the elder of the siblings, and twenty years Spock’s senior. He wore a scarlet sash rather than gold or purple due to Pike’s orders. The captain hated not being able to tell them apart, too many tactical advantages of not knowing who stood in front of you. Despite the difference in age, Sovik didn’t look any older than Spock and still considered young by their people.

 Sovik, however, did not appear like he was ready to talk, staying as tight lip and still as he did a minute ago. Stubbornness was also a trait of someone young, Spock thought. In a voice slightly quieter than the first, Spock said, “Give me your thoughts, Sovik.”

The tone had Sovik flicker his eyes down to meet Spock’s then promptly looked straight ahead again. “You have brought a human on board to serve as your bodyguard.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I am well aware.”

“I do not understand your actions. Humans are treacherous, weak willed, and savage. It goes against logic to allow one to become your bodyguard, nu’ri-trensu.”

At the formal address, Spock’s annoyance at the inconvenience melted away, and it became easier to maintain his indifference. “I of all people know how treacherous humans are, Sovik. If one has the means to control them, they can be useful. As long as one keeps his guard and does not become emotionally attached to them, they will not pose a significant threat.”

“He says we are not his masters,” Sovik interrupted. The folly made the Vulcan mask crack as he looked away. “Must you degrade yourself further for the sake of having a human guard you do not need?”

The commander closed his eyes, reviewing his actions. “He is dangerous,” Spock whispered, speaking more to himself than to the guard standing before him.

Sovik stayed quiet as Spock finished his thought process.

“For now, the human will not betray us. He is too intelligent for that, and I will ensure that he never does. You are dismissed, Sovik.”

Sovik saluted, turning on his heel to leave when Spock said, “And Sovik, do not refer to me by that title again.”

Sovik paused, turning his body enough to look at Spock before, bowing his head, “As you wish, Commander.”

Spock waited for Sovik to leave before returning to his thoughts. Perhaps he had overacted when it came to controlling Kirk, but something about the human made him . . . uneasy. He couldn’t name the cause on why he would think so. Just that Kirk was and that he needed to be put into his place as quickly as possible. Spock couldn’t allow his position to be jeopardized. He couldn’t afford it, not with so much at risk.

He glanced at the photo on his desk. Scaring the human was for the best. He wouldn’t cause problems for a couple days at the least. Enough time to figure out what to do with him.

* * *

“Fucking A,” Kirk groaned, rolling over onto his stomach after being put on his ass yet again that morning.  “I really fucking hate you.”

“If you spent half as much time concentrating as you do cursing, you would already be more proficient in countering the attack,” Serik stood over the crumpled human.

The only response that Kirk gave was a growl.

“Our time is up for today, Mr. Kirk. The commander will be expecting you on the bridge at 0800. Please be on time.”

Kirk glared but managed to get onto his feet and shuffle himself to the shower. The only good thing he could say was that at least it felt more like a training session. He could at least see straight. While he stood under the spray, his stomach growled. When was the last time he ate? He hadn’t really eaten much since arriving; either waking up too late and missing breakfast, or too irritated to eat lunch and dinner. Not today though, he would go to the mess hall during lunch.

Wary of the time, he stepped out of the shower and quickly got dressed. Trudging his way to the bridge, he bypassed several security officers. He still drew attention when he walked down the halls. In a way, their attention was more disconcerting than the arena’s guards. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Arena guards were lazy and less ambitious than Starfleet ones.

Jim walked onto the bridge, passing the two guards standing on either side of the lift. Pike was the only one who gave him notice, swirling around in his seat to face him.

“Welcome to the bridge, Mr. Kirk.” That was all Pike had to say to completely ruin him. Every person on the bridge turned to look at him. Kirk’s face turned red in anger as Pike smiled and swirled back around in his chair. Pike had pretty much alienated him with that sentence alone.

Glares from all over the bridge were digging under Kirk’s skin. His instincts screamed for him to leave immediately, but his pride wouldn’t allow him. They wouldn’t attack him on the bridge, and not surrounded by the Vulcans either. They would wait until he was alone.

“I was not aware that the bridge crew was permitted to take a break from their duties,” Spock had stood up from his station, tugging down on his uniform jacket. At the sound of his voice, everyone went back to work, but the tension remained thick.

Spock continued doing his work standing, bent over the scanner, and Jim pretty much copied whatever Sovik would do since neither told him what exactly he was suppose to do on the bridge. Neither complained nor commented, so he figured he was doing a decent job.

After about ten minutes, Jim was bored and his stomach was growling loudly with protest. It gained one irritated eyebrow raise from Spock, but other than that, Jim was reduced to watching everyone work in silence. The shift couldn’t pass by fast enough.

* * *

“Have you calculated the frequency yet, Spock,” Pike asked with a bored tone, twirling his seat to face the Vulcan.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Great. Put a landing team together and─”

Spock handed him a PADD before Pike finished. “Already done, Captain. The landing party is waiting in the transporter room, waiting for your command.”

“Efficient as always, Mr. Spock,” despite the compliment, Pike sounded like he hated that fact.

Pike barely glanced over the report before handing it back. “So where is your little, new bodyguard?”

“He is currently obtaining sustenance in the mess hall,” Spock responded, typing away at his station.

“Hmm,” the captain hummed. “Mr. Spock, I leave you to see off the landing team.” Pike stood from the center seat, hands behind his back. “I’ll be doing paperwork in my quarters.”

“Very well, Captain.” Spock stood as well and waited for the captain to pass and enter the turbolift. “Mr. Henderick, take the conn. I will be seeing to the landing party’s departure.”

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” the officer said, taking a seat in the captain’s chair as Spock departed.

As he had said, the entire landing party was waiting in the transporter room. Every member saluted at his entrance. Serik gave a slight nod to him. Spock acknowledged the nod with a slight one of his own, their eyes meeting before he told the engineer to energize.

“All 15 officers have arrived on planet safely commander,” the engineer told him.

“You may return to your duties, Ensign.”

The ensign saluted quickly, hurrying to leave the transporter room. Spock waited a minute before pulling out his communicator, and tuning it with precision. “You understand your objective, Serik?”

“Yes, Commander,” came the soft reply over the speaker.

“I will expect your report promptly when you return.” Spock closed his communicator. Giving the transporter one more glance, he left the transporter room to go back to bridge. There was still five hours until the end of the shift after all.

* * *

This food was amazing! Jim shoved another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, barely swallowing before taking another large mouthful. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had food this good. He picked up a chicken leg and bit right into it, juices running down his chin.

A tray slammed on the table, startling the hungry bodyguard enough to cause him to jump slightly in his seat. “Geez kid, breathe. I don’t do Heimlichs. If you choke, you better pray you can cough it up on your own.”

The doctor, who he had dubbed Bones, took a seat across from him, a scowl on his face, eating a salad and stabbing the lettuce with unnecessary force. Jim just stared, seemingly forgetting about his own meal for a moment as he watched the man shove the fork full of lettuce into his mouth. “What, you never seen a person eat a salad before?”

Jim blinked before eying him suspiciously. “What’s the occasion?”

McCoy grumbled, glaring at his food. “The mess is more crowded than usual, and I didn’t feel like entertaining, so I picked the least annoying option.”

A small smile crept its way onto Jim’s face. “I knew you had a soft spot for me.” McCoy glanced up and produced a hypo from his pocket. The trauma from his last visit to sickbay still fresh in his mind, Jim’s smile dropped in a heartbeat. Before Jim could react, the doctor leaned over the table and stabbed Jim’s neck with the hypo harshly. “Fuck!”

“Don’t be a baby,” McCoy sneered, placing the empty hypo in his bag then went back to stabbing his salad. “I bet you don’t even have a clue about how messed up your body is. You’re undernourished, dehydrated, lacking any type of vaccinations, your past injuries aren’t fully healed, and your immune system might as well be in name only with as many allergies you have to medications.”

The doctor continued to rant on about Jim’s medical condition, angrily abusing his food as he talked, but Jim looked at the doctor as if he was a rare creature. The doctor seemed . . . worried. About his health. He had never met a doctor who berated him about his lack of care for his health or was even vaguely interested. Naturally, Jim was suspicious of him, but there weren’t any reasons for the doctor to care. If the doctor was trying to get close to him, a friendlier demeanor would have sufficed. There was no reason for him to tell Jim what was wrong, to make him more aware of his weaknesses when instead the doctor could keep quiet and exploit them.

While Jim analyzed the possible reasons why the doctor wanted to get close to him, the doctor had left and returned with a tray full of food, putting it in front of Jim and causing the young man’s eyes to widen at the amount. “Eat all of it. You need another 3 percent body fat and 20 pounds to be considered healthy. Not that those stupid hobgoblins are helping with all that training. A dermal regenerator is not meant to be used every day. Forced regeneration of cells that frequently just leads to cancer. The minimum you could do is to at least have the nutrients to aid the natural healing process.”

Jim laughed. It was the first time he had laughed genuinely since arriving on the ship. The reaction seemed to puzzle McCoy, but he continued laughing hard enough to start snorting. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I was right about you.” At McCoy’s inane stare, he clarified. “Calling you, Bones. It was a good choice.”

“I told you not to call me that!” the doctor snapped.

Jim shrugged it off, looking at the large tray of food. He could probably only stomach half of it. Whatever McCoy’s game was Jim decided to play along. From what he saw of the doctor so far, he would have no trouble taking the doctor on if the man decided to betray him. Might as well take the medical advice and get stronger. The treatment upon his arrival had been less than fun, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have lingering pains, and he didn’t have to seduce his way into getting semi decent treatment.

“Whatever you say, Bones,” Jim said in a sing song voice, further aggravating the doctor.

Until the end of lunch, Jim teased Bones, intentionally pushing the doctor’s buttons while they ate. Kirk did pay attention to his surroundings, but the only thing that happened was the Asian lieutenant from the interrogation room sitting at the end of the long lunch table, keeping to himself.

He felt good. For once, his belly was full, and he had enjoyed a real conversation. When he left the mess hall, he wandered the halls of the ship. Almost any room with the slightest amount of importance had a guard.  The amount of glares and dark looks increased since earlier that morning. It was good to know the gossip mill was fast working, he thought dryly.  

Deciding to get out of the eye of the security guards, he pulled off a panel and ducked into the Jefferies tubes, replacing the panel as he went. Now this was how one figured out how the structure of a star ship. The Jefferies tube could go almost anywhere on the ship. He had to change directions a few times to avoid a few engineers fixing faulty wiring, but the trip went rather smoothly.

He exited at the engineering deck, hidden behind the warp core. The deck was rather empty, a few engineers here and there, but given the massive size of the engineering deck, Jim evaded them easily as he looked around, awed by the sheer wonder that he was seeing. He had known this ship was state of the art when he arrived, but this was beyond what even he dreamed of.

All the different computers and upgraded technology. The arena nor Tarsus had anywhere near this level of technology. He reached out, touching the shell of the antimatter confinement chamber.

“Hey now, lad! I don’t mind if you look, but yer sure as hell ain’t allowed to touch. All ye need to do is disturb the balance of the matter/anti-matter collision for us to be blown across the galaxy. Not to mention you’ll get her dirty.”

Jim pulled his hand away, looking around to see where the voice had come from. A man was hanging upside down by a harness, wrench in one hand and sandwich in the other. He righted himself upright, and lowered himself to the floor, unhooking himself from the harness.

Jim took a step back, guard up.

“Don’t give me the stink eye lad. I could have had you thrown out the moment you came out of the tubes,” the engineer stuffed the sandwich into his mouth and pressed a button on the digital display. The hatch to one of the engine compartments closed.

“So why didn’t you?” Jim took a step back. The engineer had a slight look of insanity in his eyes and crazy people were unpredictable.

The engineer played around with the display for a moment, typing away with both hands. Finally, he turned to look at Jim and pulled the sandwich away from his mouth. “Your expression. Haven’t seen even my own engineers look that excited when looking at this beauty when they first boarded. Whatever you’re plannin’, it ain’t to hurt my ship. No harm if you were just lookin’, but I won’t have ye messin’ with anything. Especially some Vulcan’s farm boy goon.”

The bodyguard crossed his arms in defiance. “I’m not only a stupid farm boy. I do know a little about machines.”

“Sure you do lad.”

“I’m not stupid!” He snapped, his face red. “Tell me to fix something, and I can do it. Just give me some time to get familiar with it.”

The engineer narrowed his eyes at him, studying him. “Alright, lad. Follow me; I’ll give you a little project I’ve been working on.” The engineer signaled Jim to follow him, heading farther into the engineering department and down a few ladders; they ended up in a small office. “While the ship may be state of the art, the replicators need a wee bit of work. The food never tastes quite right. It should at least spit out a half way decent sandwich.”

“A decent sandwich?” he repeated to himself quietly. Glancing at the torn apart replicator, he shifted to his other foot. “Can I do something more challenging?”

“O~oh, ye think yer too good to work on getting better food, do ya?” The engineer’s Scottish accent grew thicker with irritation. “Then what are ye good enough to do?”

Jim looked around, his eyes landing on some scrap that seemed haphazardly put together. “That’s an old tricorder right? I’m good with upgrading old stuff like that. Especially hovercars and engines.”

The engineer seemed to think it over. He was a thin man with short reddish hair covered in engine grease. It was hard to place the engineer’s age, but Jim was willing to bet he held some sort of rank in the department.  Grinning, the man said, “Alright, you have three hours.”

Smiling back, Jim sat down at the work table, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll do it in an hour.”

* * *

 

A soft beep from the computer pulled Spock’s attention away from his work. So his new bodyguard had finally left engineering. Kirk had been quite careless. If Spock hadn’t rerouted the alarm for unauthorized intruders to his console rather than security, Kirk wouldn’t have made it far. Not that the security was lax on the ship. There was still a chance security received the alarm before Spock realized that his guard had taken a detour after lunch and reprogrammed it to alert him instead. It was quite stupid of Mr. Kirk to defy him again so quickly, and it left Spock wondering once more if his new property was dimwitted. And it made him uneasy. Spock quite enjoyed a challenge in his scientific duties. He preferred work that challenged him, but he did not like unpredictable variables in his subordinates.

Sovik had gone to engineering on Spock’s order to ensure the human wasn’t plotting anything and reported back that he was with Mr. Scott. It was a satisfactory outcome in the end. Pike seemed dead set on not letting Kirk know any details about the mission, and Mr. Scott was reliable in the sense that he would keep hawk like attention on anyone in his domain. There was a reason why there were so few engineers in the department at one time. The Scottish man was protective of the engines to an unstable degree. The fact Mr. Scott allowed a stranger to stay for nearly two hours was unexpected in itself. Mr. Scott was also one of the few people who had nothing against Spock and preferred Spock to remain alive in order to stay in engineering rather than move up to first officer. Still it begged a question, why did Kirk go straight to engineering?

The intercom wailed, and Spock answered, half paying attention and half trying to solve the enigma named Kirk.

“Sir, the landing party has returned,” Sovik informed him.

Spock paused, placing down his stylus and turning his full attention to the intercom. Something was off in Sovik’s tone, just enough for him to notice though he wasn’t meant to. “What happened?”

“Only six have returned,” Sovik answered.

Spock closed his eyes slowly. “Tushah nash-veh k’du.”

Sovik did not acknowledge that Spock had spoken and continued, “Captain Pike wishes to speak to you regarding the response that should be given to this development. He will meet you in his quarters at 1900 hours.”

“Very well. You have your orders. I will finish the rest.”

“Understood sir.” Sovik replied.

The intercom cut off, and Spock leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. This turn of events was quite unfortunate. No, very unfortunate. Sovik was grieving, as was he, but neither had the luxury to show it. They had to cover their tracks and find out what happened. He would get the official report from Pike, but the official report was a story at best. Even his reports were only 75 percent truth due to Pike’s oversight.

“Ponfo mirann,” he whispered under his breath.

There was still time before his meeting.

Rising from his chair, he settled in a small alcove in his sleeping quarters, lighting the incense around him. The Vulcan incense eased his mind into the first layer of meditation. Before delving deeper, he said gently, “Dvinsu t’nash-veh, shayata tonat na’dvin tu.”

* * *

 

Spock stood in front of Pike, face betraying nothing as he waited for the man to speak.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that only six of the fourteen have come back from the mission,” Pike said casually, looking over reports.

“Yes, Captain. I was provided the report. The locals became hostile and surprised the landing team, killing five, then another three upon their retreat if the report was accurate.”

“It is a shame,” though Pike said that, he didn’t seem concerned or show grief over his lost crewmembers. “I’ll have to promote a new head of security. I hate paperwork.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll inform the next in command. And the locals?”

Pike looked bored. He had not even looked up at Spock since he entered. Peculiar behavior for the captain as he did not trust Spock. “Annihilate them. We should get our revenge and make an example of them after all.”

“Understood, Captain. In twelve hours, I will give the order.”

The captain finally looked up, eyes narrowed. “Why wait so long?”

“I wish to oversee their destruction and ensure it is done properly; however, I received urgent orders from Starfleet about a science project. If I am to get it done on time, not even 20 minutes can be spared. The Iotions are a primitive race. In order of priority, Starfleet’s direct orders is more important, and the Iotions will not be able to cause further trouble unless there is an additional reason you wish for me to prioritize their destruction.”

Pike smirked. “A dog should only bark when its master has given permission, Spock.”

“I am merely stating facts,” Spock replied.

“Of course, Commander. You are dismissed.”

Spock saluted and left.

* * *

 

The afternoon turned out quite well if Jim said so himself. After he left engineering, he toured the rest of the ship, mapping out the Jefferies tubes. Granted, he was delaying his return to his room. He had technically skipped out on his duties, and there would probably be punishment for it. He berated himself in getting caught up in his curiosity, but the Scott wasn’t too bad, once he got passed the strange obsession with sandwiches.

He couldn’t delay returning to the Vulcan’s side forever though. The punishment awaiting him if he continued to push too far . . . Jim tried to avoid thinking about it. When he did, he grew sick to his stomach then he grew angry for the reaction. And then the fear/rage cycle would start all over again.

Jim was one Jefferies tube exit away from his destination when voices drifted into the shafts.

“It’s the only time the bastard is alone. The green blooded freak won’t know what hit him.”

Jim hesitated only for a second before continuing his way towards his room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were talking about and what they planned to do, but why should he care? Because he might die? His life was already at stake just working for the jerk. He jumped down on of the tubes, ready to go to bed and be ready for the early training session ahead of him. Unfortunately, he landed right in front of the person he least wanted to meet.

His blood froze as the blue eyes traveled up the slender body, feeling more and more tense as he confirmed that it was indeed Spock he had landed in front of. Crap, what was Spock doing here? Was he looking for him? Did he come to punish him personally?

“Mr. Kirk,” he greeted. And that was it.

Spock walked around him as if he was a slight inconvenience and ignored him, continuing on his way. He didn’t seem shocked or angry, just… The human’s eyebrows knitted together. Sad? Was that what he saw? Immediately, the idea was dismissed. Spock was nothing but a sadist. There was no way he could become upset about something.

Clothes were tossed carelessly down the chute upon entering the small room. Spock wasn’t his concern, he thought again, crawling into bed wearing only his regulation briefs. Spock deserved to get assassinated. He deserved to die like the rest of his kind. Those emotionless robots couldn’t be called a living thing. Those emotions Jim swore he saw, it was just him projecting. He needed something to hate. Hate kept him going. It kept him alive.

As the day’s events began to make his body heavy and his eyes droop, he couldn’t help but remember those cold chocolate eyes, and the sadness behind them.

* * *

 

“You’re on time for a change.” The Vulcan instructor was unimpressed as Jim yawned, rubbing his eyes and scratching his stomach. No matter how much he slept, Jim could not wake up early. It just wasn’t in his nature, and he could not understand how other people could, alien or not.

“Begin your stretches. You have five minutes to prepare,” the Vulcan turned to finish preparing for the day’s lesson. He stopped in his work when he didn’t hear the human moving to do what he was told. “Is there a problem, Mr. Kirk?” he asked.

“Where’s the other one?”

The Vulcan quirked an eyebrow, “Clarify.”

“Your brother. What’s his name . . . Serik? Where is he?”

“I am Serik,” the Vulcan said.

The human merely looked him up and down and snorted. “No you’re not.”

“I am Serik,” he insisted again. Though the tone hadn’t changed, his presence was intimidating, challenging Kirk to call him out.

“Of course, Serik,” Kirk said, not convincing at all. He glanced at the small group of security officers training in the corner of the gym. They were a noisy bunch, making crude jokes and shoving each other around. “My mistake.”

Jim picked up the workout bag he had found in his room the day of his arrival.

“Where are you going, Mr. Kirk?”

Jim looked up annoyed. “I promised your master I’d be here for lessons with Serik.” He started towards the entrance when a slender hand touched his shoulder. Jim reacted instantly. With accuracy and speed, he threw Sovik over his shoulder and onto the mat. The gym went quiet. “I’ll see you around, Serik,” he said smirking. The silence continued until he door closed behind him.

“You were caught unguarded,” Spock said, walking up to Sovik as the other Vulcan sat up.

Sovik kept staring at the door the human had left through. “I am not as proficient in hand to hand combat as my brother,” he kept his voice low so that only Spock could hear. “That move he used is my brother’s favorite. He learned and perfected it in only two days.”

“It should be expected that he can adapt quickly. He has fought for his life the past three years.”

“He could tell us apart,” Sovik finally looked away from the door and at Spock.

“He will not tell. He may hate us, but he despises the captain more.”  Spock too was curious. The intelligence that he saw in the arena had peeked through again, rousing his curiosity. “His agonizer should be completed by the end of the day. It will be easier to deal out physical punishment if necessary for his disobedience.”

“He is dangerous, Commander.”

Spock looked at the door as well. “Indeed he is.”

Spock returned to his quarters, Sovik at his side as his guard. It was almost time to give orders to destroy the Iotians. And he wasn’t any closer to solving what Pike was after and if the Iotions had really killed off half the landing party. Then there was covering Serik’s absence. Sovik could only cover for so long. The two were never separated for a significant length of time.

Exhaling he said, “Computer, start personal log.” The soft beep alerted him that it was ready to record. “At 1625 hours the day before last, Captain Pike handed me a file about the mission that was to take place on Sigma Iotia II. The mission brief said little other than a standard survey mission. However, the landing party Pike recommended was mostly the security team and only two science officers. The Iotians are a race reported to have only started their industrial revolution. They were introduced to other life forms a hundred years ago, and it was reported that they were a peaceful race. The amount of security Pike wanted in the party was unconventional given the circumstances; Serik was to be my informant. Pike was uninformed of his participation in the party.

“Only the lower ranks returned. It gives me reason to believe that the party that returned did not provide an accurate report. Furthermore, the captain wished for the complete destruction of the inhabitants. He seemed disinterested in the outcome of the landing party’s mission, but wished to expedite the execution. His true plans continue to elude me. There is not sufficient time to do research. The destruction of the Iotians will go as planned.”

“Pike’s playing you, you know.”

Spock casually turned to look up at his uninvited guest, showing no surprise that Jim was standing inside his quarters. He merely raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you, Mr. Kirk?”

“Not even going to ask how I got passed your guard?”

The human almost seemed to sulk, and Spock almost felt amusement by it. “Unless you came to seek punishment for yesterday, state why you broke into my quarters.”

Kirk’s face turned red, forgetting that he still hadn’t paid the price for playing hooky yesterday. Clearing his throat, he said, “That planet you mentioned, Sigma Iotia II, it has some sort of treasure on it.”

Spock’s eyebrows drew together, his eyes narrowing just slight. “Where do you receive this information?”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” The human crossed his arms, a curious movement that humans tended to make when either feeling insecure or being stubborn. “I don’t get in trouble for yesterday.”

“That remains to be determined by the quality of the information received.”

His lack of enthusiasm seemed to disappoint the human, no doubt realizing Spock wouldn’t be easily manipulated just to get out of a tight spot. “Serik’s down there right?”

Spock’s muscles contracted and his grip on his chair tightened, but he was careful not to give anything on his face.

“What’s his life to you?”

Spock rose gracefully from his chair, his eyes locked onto Kirk’s. As he took a step forward, Jim took a weak step back. “I could extract the information from you forcibly if necessary.”

Jim’s eyes flickered to Spock’s gloved hands then back to his face. “You may not get it,” his voice whispered softly, “but I’m trying to survive, and this is the only bargaining chip I have.” He chuckled. “I can’t even pretend I have something else to trade because we both know that isn’t true. So cut me some slack.”

They stared each other down.

Finally Spock looked away first sitting back in his chair.  “Your first and last bargaining chip.”

Jim exhaled in relief and Spock watched him closer, taking in every movement just in case the human was attempting to try something. “Speak.”

The human’s lips thinned in annoyance at the command, but appeared to reign in his rebuttal. “While I was in the arena, there was an ex-Starfleet officer there for a few days. He was framed for something, I don’t remember what. All I know is he pissed off some big wig. He didn’t even make it to the arena. He shared a cell with me for a few days. He ranted about Starfleet almost the entire time. I slept through most of it, but I remember he mentioned Sigma Iotia II. He discovered something. I wasn’t paying attention much because a lot of it were just complaints, and I was sick of his whining, but he said how great his discovery was and how the planet could be a treasure trove. He also talked about the people there. He said they were smart and imitative and that they’d developed some system. There was a set of rules that they followed like a religion. Some sort of contamination left behind. They didn’t like deviating from those rules. So there is a chance─”

“That the landing party’s alive if there are guidelines to handle prisoners,” Spock finished, considering the new information. It was hearsay at best, and while it supported his own theories, filling in a few gaps, it still did not provide any certainties.

“Chris is the lowest scum there is,” Jim added, hatred burning in his eyes as he spoke of the older man. “If there is something important there, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who stood in his way including an entire planet.”

“A high probability,” Spock replied. Once more, the curiosity of how Kirk knew his captain nudged at the back of his mind. “You are dismissed, Mr. Kirk. Be wary of the time in the future.”

Kirk gave a mock salute, one from Earth’s old history of bringing a hand parallel to the ground to his forehead. Spock had never seen it done outside old documentaries. Kirk’s lacked discipline of seriousness, yet it seemed like Kirk enjoyed it, filled with an almost childlike joy. “See you later then.”

Spock watched him leave, catching Sovik’s lifted eyebrows and the quick glance inside the room to make sure he was still alive. Sovik would punish himself for his own failings, so Spock left it alone.

He pondered over what Kirk had said. There had been no reports of any resources on the planet. They had an abundant source of lithium, iron, and coal, but not useful for their advanced technology, but he didn’t think Kirk was lying either. Pike was very ambitious and always looking to make a profit.

So now that he had the information, what was he going to do with it?

* * *

 

Spock entered Pike’s office just before their morning shift. Pike seemed annoyed, glaring at Spock then at Kirk who accompanied him. “What brings you here, Spock?”

“I have received information that may affect your decision to annihilate the Iotians.”

“Oh?” the captain was obviously not pleased, the corner of his mouth twitching downward. “I doubt there is anything that will change my mind.”

“Lieutenant Uhura intercepted a message, betraying all the _Enterprise’_ s secrets, including our next orders from Starfleet. It was written in Klingon.”

Pike straightened. “From where?”

“The surface. One of the missing officers from the landing party is still alive, and unless the device is retrieved, we cannot duplicate the correct frequency and lure out our enemies.”

Something about Pike made Spock think he was livid, like a wrench had been thrown into his plans. That was probably the case. Pike’s knuckles were nearly white from how hard they were clenching.

“And who do you propose will lead this landing party to recover this transmitting device?” Pike asked.

“I will.”

 Pike’s expression became one of interest. “That’s very uncharacteristic of you. Is there a specific reason?”

“It is a delicate matter,” Spock responded.

“A micro manager,” Pike corrected, but that calculating look was back in his eyes. “Who do you plan to bring?”

“My personal guards and three from the security tea─”

“Too many,” the captain interrupted. “You can take one guard and one from the security team. If you can’t do it with that, then I will not authorize the mission.”

Rearranging his plan, he accepted. “Very well.”

Pike smiled. “Are you sure you want to go down there, Commander? Could be a trap.”

“I trust my operatives to avenge my death if something were to happen to me. And some of them are Vulcans.”

Anger surfaced on the captain’s face, replacing the smile. Jim was standing quietly to the side and behind Spock, eyes trained on the metal desk in front of them. “Enjoying your stay, James.”

Jim was grinding his teeth so hard, Spock could almost hear it. “It’s fucking fantastic,” he forced out, not looking up.

“Watch who you’re talking to, boy. I’m your master’s superior. In a way,” Pike paused as he smirked. “I own you.”

His breathing grew heavy, his restraint on the brink of snapping. Spock realized this immediately. “If that is all, Captain,” he turned to leave and thankfully, Kirk followed his lead in a hurry.

“Tell me, James, does your mother still suck cock for a living.”

It was the last straw. Jim turned on his heel, threatening to snap his ankle from the force, roaring “Bastard!” at the top of his lungs, lunging at Pike with an animalistic look in his eyes. Spock barely grabbed the feral human in time. Jim’s hands were inches away from a smug Pike.

“Hendroff, come to my office. Our guest needs time in the agony booth.”

Pike’s request over the intercom could barely be heard over the obscenities coming from Jim’s mouth. While the Vulcan’s strength could easily contain the human’s movements, Spock was unable to relieve himself a hand to knock Jim unconscious. The human was using all his might to fight against Spock’s strength to get to Pike, eyes trained on him like he could see nothing else but the smirking man behind the desk.

Security came and hit Jim with the phaser to knock him unconscious. By that time, it was excessive as the human had calmed down, though Spock dared not to let go in case the young man lost his mind again, and they dragged his unconscious body away.

“He’s poorly trained, Spock,” the captain piped in as Spock prepared to leave. “It reflects poorly on you.”

Thinning his lips, Spock left.

At the retreating commander’s back, Pike scowled. There was no doubt about it. Kirk had somehow wrecked his plans. Why else would he be standing next to Spock like he was actually trying to do his job? First the father, now the kid. They were nearly identical, in appearance and in attitude. It pissed him off.  He didn’t know how, but he wanted to make sure Kirk suffered for meddling.  He had almost wished Kirk had hit him. He could have had Spock sent to the booth too. Well, there was still a chance Spock would die on planet. He leaned back in his chair. After all, accidents did happen.

* * *

 

Spock watched Kirk’s body twitch as it tried to curl in on itself but unable to due to the lack of space. Kirk’s eyes were squeezed shut, he was sweating profusely, and agonized grunts would escape his lips. But he hadn’t once screamed. Instead, he continued to clench his teeth and ride each wave of pain, holding his breath and exhaling at the right moments.

Spock stood behind the control panel to make sure that the ensign controlling the booth didn’t bring the intensity past human limits. He couldn’t afford to have Kirk damaged.

He felt the presence of Sovik beside him without having to look away. “Sir, have you decided which security office will join you?”

“There will be no security officer joining me,” Spock stated, watching the human body jerk unpleasantly.

“Understood. I have made arrangements for─”

“You will not be accompanying me either, Sovik. Neither will Serik. When Mr. Kirk has sufficiently recovered, he will.”

“Commander─” Sovik started to object until he recalled himself. “Yes, sir.”

Dropping his voice, Spock added, “Competence is difficult to find. You are needed here.”

Sovik tilted his head, “Yes sir.” He took his post staying silent as they waited for Kirk’s punishment to be over. There was nothing logical about this human. He was loud, disobedient, stubborn, and emotional in addition to being adaptable, curious, and cunning. He was one strange enigma; one Spock was having difficulty controlling. Despite all that, despite the uneasiness and the uncertainty he felt pertaining to the subject in question, Spock’s curiosity kept getting piqued. How complex was this human? And should he give into the temptation to solve it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the numbers for the landing party is correct both times, and no Jim didn't pull the name Bones out of his ass.
> 
> Vulcan
> 
> Tushah nash-veh k'du - I grieve with thee.  
> Ponfo mirann - Vulcan curse word (yes apparently they have them)  
> Dvinsu t'nash-veh shayata tonat na'dvin tu -My servant, thank you for your service.  
> nu'ri-trensu - young master


	4. A Piece of the Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Sorry for the wait. I've actually been working on this chapter for quite a while. This chapter and half the next is for the TOS fans who should know what's coming from the chapter title alone.
> 
> Question for you guys! I got a request for twincest. Yeah? Nay? Or make it ambigious where it can be taken as twincest or bromance.
> 
> BTW: There is a reason why Sovik and Serik are emotional.

With his phaser on his hip and his knife sharpened and in its holster, Spock waited for Kirk to do the same. The human was slightly pale, and his skin damp with sweat, but Kirk moved as if he hadn’t been in the agony booth for a full duration. Unfortunately, Pike wasn’t giving Spock much time; therefore, Spock was unable to give Kirk a chance to recover either.

Not that Kirk wanted to wait. With irritation, he fiddled with the phaser Spock had given him, radiating restlessness. He hadn’t spoken a word since he was released from the booth, focusing only on getting ready for their departure.

“Are you ready to depart, Mr. Kirk?” 

“Yeah,” he replied crisply, stepping onto the transporter pad as well. “You sure you want to trust me?”

“I trust no one.”

“Good policy.”

Spock glanced at the human, wondering if it was a warning, but Kirk didn’t show any signs that he had something up his sleeve. “Sovik, energize.”

The first thing Spock noticed once they had energized onto the planet’s surface was the smog. The thick layer coating the atmosphere was enough to indicate that the civilization was still in the industrial age. The sounds of the motorized vehicles that followed supported that theory. The second thing Spock noticed was the clothing and building structures. It was like he had materialized into Earth’s early 20th century.

“It’s like the 1930s,” Kirk muttered, watching the Iotians pass them by. It appeared that they had arrived in the middle of a busy intersection, blocking traffic. With an angry honk from a disgruntled driver, they carefully made their way to the sidewalk.

“I do not recall it being typical for humans to carry firearms during this time period,” Spock noted as two women with revolvers walked by.

The slave rolled his eyes. “It’s okay to call them guns you know.”

Not surprisingly, Spock ignored him.

Jim was ready to suggest moving since their appearance was drawing attention when a group of Iotions came out of a nearby alley. All of them were dressed in suits and fedoras, holding Tommy guns directed at them. One was dressed in a dark brown striped pin suit with a khaki fedora. He had a bored expression as if he rather be someplace else. “Hey you, let’s see you petrified,” he said with an old Chicago accent.

 Both Jim and Spock looked on with confusion. “Explain that statement,” Spock asked.

“Let’s see you turn to stone,” the man said again impatiently. “Put your hands over your head, or you ain’t going to have a head to put your hands over.”

Kirk glanced over at Spock, glaring at him as if it was the Vulcan’s fault they were put into this situation, but slowly did as he was told, raising his hands over his head. Spock followed.

One of the Iotions lowered his weapon to approach them and pat them down, emptying their pockets and removing their weapons. One of the small pocket phasers was handed to the one Spock had deemed as their leader. “What’s this?”

The Iotaian’s hand brushed against one of the two buttons while the weapon was aimed towards Spock and Jim. “The item in your hands is very dangerous. I suggest taking your finger off the trigger else risk harming the civilians.” Spock spoke up.

“A heater huh?” The Iotian’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Hey, the boss will love that.” He pocketed the phaser and lifted the gun again. “Get moving. That direction.”

Jim and Spock were led at gunpoint down the street and into a four story, rectangular, brick building, reminding Spock of the apartment buildings of old earth seen in holos and then into a large office. The room was spacious with a pair of couches next to the fireplace and a wooden coffee table between them with a red rectangular rug protecting the wood flooring under the furniture. The east wall had been converted into built in book shelves, filled with a variety of hard cover books. And on the north wall was a large window framed by heavy dark green drapes. In front of the window, a large wooden desk and a plush chair sat. Next to the door they had entered was a small cabinet with a decanter and four crystal glasses on top of it. And finally, in the center of the room was a billiards table with a half played game.

“Someone has taste,” Jim muttered under his breath looking quite impressed with the décor. Spock however thought it over the top and wasteful. An office’s function was to be able to work, and there were too many distractions present in the room.

There was one thing that caught Spock’s eye. It was a white leather bound book with gold lettering, sitting on display next to the bookshelves. Spock got closer to make out the title, _Chicago Mobs of the Twenties._ Carefully, Spock opened the book.

“What did you find?” Jim asked.

“I believe the source of the contamination that you previously mentioned. Its publication was in New York, 1992.”

“No wonder it looks like it’s a holo out of Earth’s history. Some moron must have left it.”

“Hey, don’t make no more cracks about the book,” a new voice joined in. Spock and Jim turned simultaneously at the new voice. He was an older man, slightly balding at the top. He too wore a pressed pin striped suit, but lacked the hat. A women dressed in a red dress followed him, sitting on his desk while he sat in the plush chair behind it.

While Spock was cautious around the new comer, noticing how the rest of the gangsters in the room were more alert with his presence, Jim was trying not to smile. “Who? Me?”

“Don’t give me those baby blue eyes,” the man replied with annoyance.

“What?” Kirk’s lips twitched.

“I’m saying I don’t go for that innocent routine. Now, keep your trap shut, or you’ll be wearing cement overshoes.”

There was a glint in the human’s eyes and a smirk playing on Jim’s lips. Spock decided to intervene before the human got them into further trouble. After all, they were on a mission. “And you are?”

“Boss Bela Oxmyx,” the man said, lighting a cigar. “And I brought you here to make you a deal.”

“A deal?” Spock repeated.

“You got wax in them pointed ears of yours? Look, I’m a business man. I’m a peaceful man at heart, and I don’t like fighting.” Jim snorted at Bela’s statement, but the Iotian didn’t seem to hear. “This nation is falling apart with all the bickering. If all them other territories are led by one boss, it would put an end to all the hits and things can finally get done ‘round here.” By the way Bela talked, it seemed as if the mobster assumed that they knew the political situation of the planet.

“And let me guess,” Kirk drawled, walking up to Bela. “You want to be in charge, and you want our help to do it somehow.”

Bela smiled. “I like you. You’re smart. What’s your name?”

“You can call me . . .” he spared Spock a glance, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Captain James Kirk,” he answered.

 “Nice to meet ya, Captain. Grab yourself a glass. It’s good. Distilled it myself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kirk made his way over to the decanter by the door, pouring himself a glass. Spock frowned disapprovingly.

Bela stood, making his way to the billiard’s table and picking up a pool stick. He handed a second one to Kirk who took it without a second thought. “Listen up, Captain. You don’t wanna pass this deal up.”

“Of course not,” Kirk gestured to the guards with his glass.

Bela chuckled and waved off his men. “Put that chopper down Kalo, these guys are our guests.”

The guards shared a look before lowering their weapons. Spock walked to the other side of the billiards table. He was impressed. Kirk had managed to make the enemy at ease enough in his presence to lower their weapons. “What is it that you wish of us, Mr. Oxmyx?”

Bela smiled wider when Jim took a shot for the nine ball at an almost impossible angle and manage to get it into the pocket. “It’s simple really. You supply me all the heaters I need, enough to knock off all the other bosses. I’ll take over, and all you have to deal with is me.”

“Right, so let me get this straight,” Kirk leaned over the table to take another shot. “You want us to give you arms and assistance so you can kill off your neighbors?”

“Yeah, simple right?”

Kirk sat on the edge of the pool table. “I have another offer. You give us back our weapons and tell us what happened to the first group of people who came to your planet 48 hours ago, and we don’t off you and your men.”

Bela’s friendly demeanor fell and instead filled with a calm anger. “Now you see here captain, I’m gonna give you just 8 hours to give me the things you want or else I’ll have you sent back to your ship.” Bela looked over to Spock. “In a box.” He snapped his fingers, and the two guards held the guns up to Kirk and Spock’s head. “Is that understood, pal?”

Kirk didn’t seem to waver, matching Bela’s gaze with a cold one of his own, the smirk never leaving his face. “Crystal.”

The Iotain named Kalo shoved the muzzle into his back, forcing the human off the table and out the room. Spock was escorted out in the same manner, and together they made their way to the basement.

The basement mostly consisted of unpainted plaster walls and filled with cargo boxes. A couple more guards were down there as well, surrounding a small table playing a card game of some sort. Given the world they had walked into, Spock was fairly certain it was poker.

Kirk took a seat on one of the crates making himself comfortable and looking rather unconcerned of the development. Spock sat on one of the crates as well waiting for the extra guards to leave.

“Not going to say anything about me impersonating a higher ranking officer?” Kirk whispered then finished his glass of alcohol.

“You are not an officer therefore it is not violating any regulation. In addition, your performance gave me time to observe,” Spock steepled his fingers.

“I know I said these people were imitative, but this is ridiculous. It’s like we stepped into a movie.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. The coordinates they beamed down to was the same coordinates the previous landing party had used. That in itself told Spock that it was highly likely that the party had been sent into a trap. They had sensors. Spock himself knew that the Iotians showed up on those sensors, yet the party was still beamed into the middle of a crowded city. And not even in an alley but an intersection. Someone had changed the original coordinates he had originally plotted.

In addition, the Iotions didn’t kill them right away, they wanted to make a deal. It was possible that they had done the same to the landing party that had been left behind. The story the returning landing party had given was that the Iotians had attacked without warning, mowed down half the party and hunted them until the survivors managed to escape. The story and how the events were playing out now were inconsistent.

Kirk taking the role as the superior was unexpected yet useful. Bela was focused on Kirk rather than him, letting the real threat be unnoticed, and it gave Spock the opportunity to see what Kirk would do in the situation they had found themselves in.

“How long did Chris give us by the way?”

“Four hours.”

Kirk hummed. “Well I guess knowing how much time is useless if there’s no way to keep track of it. We don’t even know if they use the same time measurement.”

“We have 3 hours, 39 minutes, and 13 seconds until the captain attacks the Ioatians,” Spock responded, thinking over how they should escape.

The human stared at him bewildered. “Seriously?”

“Vulcans have an innate sense of time,” Spock replied.

“Of course they do,” Kirk muttered, rolling his left shoulder. “So . . .  you’re not going to get all pissy about it?”

Spock glanced at the human in the corner of his eye. Whatever Kirk saw seemed to annoy the human as he scowled a bit. “I found your falsehood to be more beneficial given the circumstances; however, do not forget it is your duty to stay truthful to me.”

Jim did not like the way those eyes looked at him. They were cold, distant, and made him feel like he was below nothing. Looking away, he turned his gaze to the Iotians playing cards, though they would look up to check on them occasionally.

“I am curious to hear what you think of this situation,” Spock said, studying every move Kirk made intensely.

“If I know my movies, chances are there are other bosses around and given what Bela said, they fight over territory often. We might be able to make arrangements with another boss and find out what they did with the other landing party, or at the least where your shipmates did with the bodies if they were the ones who killed them.”

“Interesting,” Spock said levelly. “And do you have an idea on how to escape our captivity?”

A big, confident smirk graced Kirk’s face. “Yeah. Do you?”

“Three, however, I am curious to what you are planning.”

“How good are you at hand to hand combat?”

Spock raised a condescending eyebrow. “More proficient than Sovik.”

Smiling with a promise of mischief, Kirk stood. “Good, just follow my lead.”

Jim made his way over to the group of Iotians playing cards, pretending to study their game. The movement caught the guards’ attention, watching him carefully as they continued to play, guns aimed at him from under and over the table. “Gentleman, gentleman,” Kirk said, raising his hands in a reassuring gesture. “I just wanted to say that this game you guys are playing is a kid’s game, that’s all.”

“You think so, huh,” the man named Kalo said, aiming his gun at Kirk.

“Yeah,” he sighed, sounding almost disappointed. “I wouldn’t even waste my time.”

“Who’s asking you?” Kalo asked annoyed. Spock too was wondering what Kirk was up to.

“See, on Beta Antares IV they play a real game. It’s a man’s game. I was thinking of teaching it to you, but I think it might be a little too hard for you. It requires intelligence.”

“Listen Kirk, I can play whatever you can figure out.” Kalo gestured to the seat beside him with the gun. “Sit down and show us how it’s played.”

Spock moved closer as well. He had been to Beta Antares, and he was not aware of any card game that was popular there.

The others handed Kirk the cards which he skillfully shuffled as he talked. “The cards on Beta Antares IV are different of course, but not to different,” he explained. “The game is called . . . fizzbin.”

“Fizzbin?” One of the gangsters asked.

“Fizzbin,” he confirmed. “It’s not too difficult. Each player gets six cards except the player to the dealer’s right who gets seven.”

“On the right?” Kalo asked.

Kirk met Kalo’s eyes with a friendly smile. “Right. The second card is turned face up except on Tuesday when it’s the third.”

This caused the Iotians around the table to look at Kirk with confusion. “On. . . Tuesday?”

“Uhuh,” Kirk said, with very little care in his tone. He placed the card face up in front of Kalo and feigned enthusiasm. “Oh, look at that, you got two jacks. You have a half fizzbin already.”

Getting excited, Kalo grinned too, leaning forward in his seat eagerly. “So I need another jack?”

“No, if you got another jack you’d have a . . . a schrawg.”

“A schrawg?”

“Yeah, that means you’d be disqualified. What you need is either a king and a two, except at night of course when you need a queen and a four.”

“Except at night,” Kalo was thinking hard, clearly giving his entire attention to Kirk. His brows were drawn together in concentration and his finger was easing off the trigger.

“Riiight,” Kirk drawled flipping over another card. The human froze for a second before once again faking enthusiasm. “Hey look at that, another jack. You lucky son of a bitch.”

At this point, Spock had caught on that this entire thing was made up though it appeared the Iotians had not as Kalo laughed in delight.

“Now if you didn’t get another jack, and had gotten a king, then you get another card, except when it’s dark when you’d have to give it back.”

“If it were dark on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, but what you’re after is a royal fizzbin, but the odds of getting that is,” Jim looked up at Spock, and the Vulcan had the slightest feeling the human had lost himself in his own convoluted explanation of the made up game. “Spock, what are the odds of getting a royal fizzbin?”

Spock couldn’t help the small dark amusement that slipped into his eyes as he said, “I never computed them before, _Captain_ ,” leaving the human to fend for himself in his own lie.

Kirk did not seem happy about the response as he hesitated for a split moment and sent Kalo a strained smile. “Well it’s slim, I’ll tell you that.” He flipped over another card. “Now for the last card, let’s call it a krawlk, you got that?”

Kalo looked at him with confusion shaking his head slightly. He was on the edge of his seat, practically hanging off his every word, determined to prove to Kirk that he could play the fake game. Watching Kalo, Kirk dropped the card onto the floor.

Kalo eagerly said, “I’ll get it,” bending over. Seeing Spock nearly behind Kalo, Kirk flipped the table startling the other two guards. Spock placed his hand between Kalo shoulder and neck. The man fell unconscious a moment later. Kirk had already charged the other two, grabbing the Tommy gun from one before he could shoot, yanking it out of his hands, while kicking the second guard in the gut, making him stumble back into Spock, allowing him to deliver another nerve pinch while Kirk hit the last guard with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

“You are a bastard,” Kirk growled, walking over the unconscious body to join Spock.

Spock however had already turned to the back door of the basement. “I don’t know what you are referring to,” he said, acting oblivious.

Jim rolled his eyes, muttering about stuck up Vulcans which Spock pretended not to hear. He did wonder why Spock was allowing him to practically take charge of this mission. It made him nervous and wonder if the green bastard was planning something. It reminded him of a predator, silently watching its prey and waiting, analyzing. No doubt that was what Spock was doing. He was calculating enough, waiting for Jim to show a weakness, yet, at that moment, Jim only cared for little except foiling Pike. If the Vulcan wasn’t going to stand in his way, then he wasn’t going to question it until after they were aboard the ship. Spock probably wouldn’t do anything unless Jim tried to interfere in finding Serik. Why did Spock care so much for an underling anyway?

Kirk ran his hand through his hair. How were they going to find out where the other crime bosses were?

“Alright, any ideas on how to . . . what are you doing?”

Spock had gone over to Kalo, kneeling beside him and taking off his glove. “Unless you have an idea of where to go next, we require information. This is the quickest way.”

“We don’t need him screaming and alerting everyone that we’re escaping,” he hissed.

“He will not scream,” Spock said calmly, placing his fingers on the unconscious man’s psi points.

Seeing Spock touch the man’s face, Kirk grew uncomfortable, turning away to keep guard of the entrance. They had made noise flipping over the table, and he wasn’t sure how sound proof the basement was.

“I have acquired the location of a boss named Krako,” Spock said standing up. “We should leave.”

“Go on ahead, I’ll be right there.” Jim said heading back to the unconscious bodies.

Spock looked at him with curiosity, but sensed that the human had no intention to run. “I will acquire us a mode of transportation.”

“Great,” the human said distractedly.

Spock left through the basement door that led into an alley. It was full of trash, but near the exit was a car. The car, not surprisingly, looked like Earth’s antique models; the strange thing though was that it was a decade off from the rest of the world around them. The body was more rounded and sleek, painted a pale yellow with black accents and lacked a top. The key was still in the ignition, making Spock wonder if the owner did not plan to be away long. Still, it was quite careless.

Spock checked the car for any useful gear that they might need. He did find a gun and additional ammo in the trunk along with what looked to be a radio. That might come in handy given that his communicator had been taken.

“Hey,” Jim called out with an armful of clothes. The human shoved some of them into Spock’s arms. “Change into this.”

“Do not forget who is in charge Mr. Kirk,” but Spock started to change into them none the less.

Kirk however was distracted. “Holy shit! Is that the Cadillac V-12 1931 model?” The human ran his hands over the hood in excitement.  

“Mr. Kirk, we are in a hurry if you recall.”

“Just a minute,” he waved him off. The human’s eyes were lit up with excitement, opening the hood an inspecting the engine. “Oh god, this is a perfect replica, or is this considered legit,” he murmured under his breath.

“Mr. Kirk,” at the stern tone, Kirk looked up with annoyance only for it to melt away when the blue eyes finally landed on him. Was there something wrong with what he was wearing? The brown pinstripe suit fit perfectly on his frame, and the khaki shirt underneath still looked rather pressed despite having been warn just minutes ago by its previous owner. The orange tie and handkerchief gave the ensemble a splash of color without drawing too much attention to them, and the fedora hid the tips of his ears at first glance. From his calculations, he would blend in rather well unless held under scrutiny but Kirk kept giving him that strange look. “Mr. Kirk?”

At his voice, Kirk seemed to snap out of it and closed the car’s hood. “I’ll get changed in the car. You do know how to drive a stick right?”

“While I assume you mean a clutch, this ancient technology should not be difficult given that I am proficient in many of the sciences.”

“Uh-huh,” Kirk said but he didn’t sound convinced. Spock sat into the driver’s seat, assessing the three different pedals, the gear shift, and the wheel while Kirk got dressed in the passenger seat.

Spock started the car, pleased to hear the engine turn on. He pressed on the gas then attempted to shift gear, causing the car to lurch forward and the gears to grind loudly. Spock tried again with the same result, the car moving forward in jolty movements over and over again.

“You have got to be shitting me,” Kirk groaned, shrugging into his jacket.

Spock said nothing as the car lurched forward again.

“Let me drive,” he complained, already moving into the driver’s seat and therefore, Spock’s lap. Spock felt the unreasonable urge to throw the human out of the car for invading his personal space, but settled on it being unproductive. Instead, he slipped into the passenger seat, bodies brushing against one another. The closeness made the Vulcan uncomfortable, but as Kirk flawlessly put the car into drive and the car began to move down the street without problem, Spock couldn’t argue that the change wasn’t needed. Why was Kirk so knowledge about antique vehicles? To Spock’s knowledge, automatic transmission had been used since the late 20th century, and manual transmission had become obsolete by the mid 21st century. It was another mystery added to many when concerning the slave.

Spock directed them to their destination. The sun was starting to set, but the streets were still filled with armed civilians and children playing in the street with pocket knives. Jim parallel parked about a block away from Krako’s base.

Turning off the engine, he leaned on the steering wheel. “What are you up to?”

“Pardon?” Spock asked, keeping his gaze forward.

“I know you aren’t stupid, and I know you’re a control freak after only being with you for a couple of days, yet you’ve been quiet and let me lead this entire time.” Kirk turned his head, his eyes staring Spock down, the blue darkening with danger. “What are you planning?”

Spock met his gaze unflinching. “You are a dangerous man, Mr. Kirk. I was aware of this the moment I saw your performance in the arena. However, regardless of the circumstances of how we were brought together, I value intelligence and a common goal. We both wish to foil the captain’s plans, and if your plans are effective, I have no qualms about following them.”

Jim hadn’t expected Spock’s answer to be so . . . reasonable, but he also suspected that was not the only reason. Spock was resourceful and clever. Strangely though, he felt no ill will from the Vulcan. Rather, he felt curiosity, like the Vulcan was observing an experiment.

“So I can suspect that this amicable behavior between us is only temporary, and we’ll be back to hating one another when we get back.”

“Undoubtedly,” Spock replied.

“Good. Now what did you get from the idiot.”

“Oxmyx did not meet the previous landing group. He was distracted by a hit that coincided with the landing party’s arrival by a boss named Krako. There is a rumor that Krako’s men had put the bag on some aliens they had found during the confrontation.” Spock grew tense as he added, “I admit I do not know what is meant by the terms ‘bag’ and ‘hit’.”

A snicker left Kirk’s lips even though he tried to stifle it by biting the inside of his cheek. “You should watch more movies. It would help get out the ten foot pole lodged up your ass.”

“There is no such-“

“It’s a saying,” Kirk interrupted, chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly in thought. “Will you be helping me come up with a plan?”

“If you are in need of my assistance.”

Kirk scowled but didn’t say anything besides, “useless bastard” under his breath. After a while, he began mumbling, though Spock supposed it wasn’t for him to hear. “We need to save the landing party and find out what Pike was up too. There are two of us, two weapons, and a car. We don’t know the layout of the inside of the house, there are at least two guards outside, and if we cause a fuss outside, we draw the attention of every armed civilian in the area.”

Kirk kept mumbling information to himself and was too engrossed with his thoughts to notice that a child had walked up to the car until he poked Kirk’s arm. “Hey you, are you planning a hit?”

Kirk was startled at first, eyes widening slightly in surprised, but he quickly recovered, eyes narrowing. “What’s it to ya?”

“You ain’t gonna get far. You in Krako’s territory. You cause a scene and people will blast you from the windows across the street.”

“You ain’t telling me nuthin’ I don’ already know.” Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise at Kirk’s tone. The human had adopted a Chicago accent and his body posture became slack as if the child posed no threat to their cover. In fact, he gave off the same air as the Iotians had as if he too was a gangster. “So I’m gonna say it again. What’s it to ya?”

The child crossed his arm over his chest, his chin sticking up defiantly. The kid couldn’t be more than twelve. He had a dusting of freckles over his face and messy brown hair hidden under a cap. “I want in.”

“Young man,” Spock said, drawing the child’s attention to him. “This will be dangerous and as such I would recommend against this.”

“Cool it, Spock. Don’t get so riled up about words coming out of the mouth of babes.”

“Hey! You callin’ me a babe?”

“Yeah, I’m callin’ you a babe,” Kirk said with a hint of annoyance until the child held a pocket knife to Kirk’s throat. For a brief second, a threat of danger flashed in his eyes before a casual smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed the child’s hand and forced him to lower the knife as he stepped out of the car. “But it’s nuthin’ to get upset about.” He lowered himself so he could meet eye to eye with the child. “So what you want out of it?”

The child shrugged. “A piece of the action.”

Kirk looked as surprised as Spock felt. “You do not even know what this action is,” Spock said, but the child paid little mind to him.

“I figure it has to be a decent percentage, else you wouldn’t bother trying to hit Krako.”

Spock couldn’t help but think it was a logical conclusion given the world the child lived in.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s your idea, kid?”

The kid’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’ll know it when ya see it.”

The boy ran off toward the building and Spock and Kirk grabbed the Tommy guns they had swiped, watching the kid from a distance. He was playing with the knife, yelling, “Take that! And that!” as he approached the building, fighting an invisible enemy. The boy drew the attention of the guards and both smiled fondly at the kid in amusement as they watched. The boy got so far as climbing a few of the steps before tripping and falling and screaming, “Daddy”, at the top of his lungs as he pretending to sob. Both guards went to the kid’s side to attend to him.

Kirk and Spock figured that was their cue. He had just heard them say, “cute kid,” by the time they got close enough, and Jim immediately played the concerned father. “Sonny, oh sonny, what did they do to you,” he said, going to the boy’s side and subsequently in between both guards. This allowed Spock to get close enough to the one on the right and nerve pinch him. Before the other guard could react to his partner’s suddenly limp form, Kirk knocked him out in one punch.

The child made a run for it, smart enough to get the hell out of there before he got into too much trouble, leaving Kirk and Spock to quickly carry the two guards inside before anyone noticed.

It only took three door checks to find Krako’s office. He was sitting behind his desk with a young woman perched on the surface. The three guards in the room moved to point their weapons at them, but both Spock and Kirk had theirs pointed at the group already. “Don’t move,” Kirk ordered. “Else you’ll be riddled with holes.” The guards hesitantly listened, sparing glances at their boss who had stood up at their entrance.

Knowing Spock would keep his gun on the guards, Kirk lowered his and sent a suave smile at who he presumed to be Krako.

“You must be Kirk,” Krako smiled uneasily. Krako was a smaller man than Oxmyx, and looked more like an entertainer with his bow tie and straw hat than a mobster, but he did hide his nervousness well.

“And you must be Krako.” Kirk smirked, shouldering the gun. “Got eyes everywhere do ya?”

“I wouldn’t be a good boss if I didn’t. I know everything Bela does. He doesn’t make a date with a broad unless I know about it.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Kirk walked up to Krako with a sort of swag and a commanding presence as he looked down at the boss. Despite his smile, his eyes conveyed that he was speaking with a lesser being. He pointed at Krako with his gun then gestured away. “May I?”

“Of course,” Krako laughed nervously, vacating his chair.

Kirk took a seat, placing his feet onto the desk and leaning back into the chair. “You’re a smart man, Krako. I don’t want to cause too much trouble.”

“Glad we agree on something, Kirk. See I have a proposition for ya.”

“You want me to help you get some heaters and teach ya how to use them so you can knock off the other bosses and take complete control. Ain’t that right?” Kirk said with almost a bored tone.

Krako didn’t look surprised. “Bela offered you the same thing.”

“Bela ain’t no fool. So,” Kirk grinned maliciously, “how can you top him?”

“I know Bela, he didn’t offer you nuthin’.” Krako leaned forward full of confidence. “But I’m a fair man. Help me and I’ll give you 30 percent, skimmed right off the top.”

Kirk laughed. “Please, this organization is peanuts compared to something like the Empire. Isn’t that right, Spock.”

“. . . Indeed.” Spock said not taking his eyes off the guards.

“Indeed, captain,” Kirk stressed, making the Vulcan direct his cool gaze at Kirk for a brief moment. However, Spock didn’t correct himself.

“But let’s discuss business,” Kirk put his feet down and got up to sit on the edge of the desk, leaning towards Krako, his barrel pointed towards Krako in a lazy fashion. “Tell me what you know about Pike, and we might come to some sort of understandin’.”

Krako’s eyes darted to the left, clearly nervous. “I dunno who you talkin’ about.”

Faster than what Krako was prepared for Kirk grabbed his lapel and pulled him forward, pressing the barrel into Krako’s stomach. “Don’ play games with me, or I’ll have you wearin’ cement overshoes before ya gal knows you’re gone.”

Krako swallowed hard. “Look here, Captain. We ain’t done nothin’. Pike gave me a ring a month ago. Promised to help me get rich if I let him borrow two of my boys.”

“What did he have ‘em do?”

“He made them empty a couple of barrels in the city dump, but when he didn’t hand over the goods, we cut him loose.”

“What was in the barrels?”

“Some sort of liquid. We didn’t ask.”

Kirk wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he also didn’t think he’d get a better explanation either. “What about the aliens?”

At the mention of the landing party, Krako scowled. “Either sleeping with the fish or getting acquainted with my butcher, Bobby.”

Spock grew tense; his grip tightening on the gun, and Kirk swore he could feel the air around the Vulcan drop. “Alright, Krako, here’s the deal. You give me them boys you have locked up, and I’ll see what I can do about them heaters.”

The Iotian seemed to consider it, but Kirk didn’t trust him. He was holding Krako and his men at gunpoint after all, and he’d seen enough gangster movies to know that there were betrayals left and right. In addition to the fact that neither Spock nor Kirk knew how many people were actually in the building, left them at a disadvantage. There was only so much time before the rest of Krako’s men realized they were keeping Krako hostage.

“You got yourself a deal, Kirk,” Krako extended his hand which Kirk shook, sending a sidelong glance to Spock.

Spock aimed the gun down as an act of faith, but still kept hawk like attention on them.

“Alright Krako, lead the way,” Kirk gestured to the door. “Spock, you stay here and keep the boys company, would ya?”

The commander didn’t move at first. He just kept staring at the guards, unmoving.

“Spock?”

“. . . Yes . . . Captain.”

“He alright up here?” Krako pointed to his head.

“Yeah,” though Kirk couldn’t help but look back at Spock. “He’s golden. Shall we?”

He led Krako out of the room, gun at the ready if he tried anything. The hallway was silent as they walked to a door that led into a basement. The nice wood paneling turned to stone and the air turned cool. The scent of copper wafted to his nose, and a dull thud reached his ears. At the bottom of the stairs was a corridor with three doors on each side. Krako lead him to the door at the end to his left. As they approached, the thud got louder and Kirk could faintly hear a groan from the other side of the door. Krako opened the door, letting the smell of copper grow stronger.

The room itself was covered in dried blood, but currently green was the predominant color staining the floor. Serik was tied to a chair, his hands cuffed to the table. His right temple was bleeding, his hair matted to his face with the blood. The left side of his face was swollen to the point his eye could no longer open, and his body was hunched over as if he was barely conscious. Kirk couldn’t tell what other injuries he had sustained other than the green stains in his uniform. His left hand however looked crushed.

The other man in the room, Kirk could only assume he was the interrogator, held a hammer in his hand, covered in green blood, looking surprised to see Krako enter his domain.

“You haven’t moved on yet?” Krako sounded irritated. He didn’t spare Serik a glance as he walked further into the room.

“Boss! I wasn’t expecting you. I was just about to sharpen Betsy and Clover.” The man picked up a rather large pair of scissors. “But you wouldn’t believe how sensitive his hands are. Had him screaming like a dane.” The man slammed the hammer down on the table, just missing Serik’s left hand by a hair. It was enough to make the Vulcan flinch before he could stop himself, trying to pull his hands back but unable to due to the cuffs. Kirk noticed that his wrists were chaffed to the bone.

“Change of plans, we’re going to let them go. My boy Kirk here is going to take care of him, assuming he keeps his end of the deal.”

The interrogator seemed almost disappointed at the news. “Whatever ya say, Boss,” he said with a sigh. The man took the keys off his belt, and removed the cuffs.

Serik met Kirk’s eyes for a moment then back to his hands. His body straightened as if trying to hold onto his pride and dignity, but unable to hold himself up. Every second his body slumped a little more, his eye drooping closed.

Kirk frowned on the inside. He was hoping the Vulcan would be able to walk by himself, but that wasn’t a possibility given the Vulcan’s condition. He’d have to carry him, and it would leave him open. “Got any more of my boys you put the bag on here?”

“Three more. I’ll give ‘em to ya once you deliver those heaters.”

“Right. . .” He was considering how exactly they could leave when Spock walked into the room.

“Captain,” Spock’s attention went to Serik as he spoke. “If we are to prepare Mr. Krako’s . . . heaters . . . we should leave now.”

At the sound of the commander’s voice, Serik once again tried to sit up. “Nu'ri-trensu.” His voice was raspy and cracked, no louder than a whisper. It was a rather pathetic sight if Kirk said so himself, but he saw something change in Spock. His features grew softer for a moment as he regarded Serik, then hard again as if restraining his anger, but Kirk knew. He could see the promise of death behind those eyes. Kirk knew those eyes well.

“Why don’t we bring out your drinking stuff and celebrate our partnership?” Kirk placed his hand on Krako’s back guiding him out of the room in a friendly gesture. Just before he left, Kirk saw Spock start to remove his glove. The interrogator followed him out, glancing at Spock uneasily.

“Nu’ri-trensu,” Serik said again, struggling to his feet.

“Hafa’un. Nam’tor du kobat.” Serik hesitated before allowing his legs to give out and stay seated. Spock took a knee so he was more at his companion’s level assessing the damage.

“Ni’droi’ik nar-tor. Ki’avshau nash-veh du.”

Spock shook his head, feeling Serik's stress, anger, and guilt. “Ki’dvin-tor du lo’uk nash-veh. Kal-tor nash-veh.” He lifted his hand to Serik’s psi points, and the man nearly relaxed into his touch.

“Shaya tonat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan obtained from Vulcan Language Dictionary  
> Nu’ri-trensu : Young master  
> Hafa’un. Nam’tor du kobat: Stay. You are weak.  
> Ni’droi’ik nar-tor. Ki’avshau nash-veh du: Forgive me. I have failed you.  
> ki’dvin-tor du lo’uk nash-veh. Kal-tor nash-veh. : You have served me greatly. Allow me.  
> Shaya tonat: Thank you
> 
> Please comment!!!


	5. Pains of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw Star Trek Beyond yesterday. Surprisingly, it was a good movie. It really caters to TOS fans. And everyone clapped when checkove appeared in each movie (it was a three movie marathon). But no one clapped for Nimoy but me. It was a great experience minus my brother having a seizure after the first movie. That freaked me out. First time it happened in front of me. VERY MINOR SPOILER (that doesn't deal with plot) WARNINGS. OMG! That movie was a tease! A fucking tease! We were this close to having Spock and Uhura break up permanently. So close. On a lesser note, Sulu is confirmed to be gay. 
> 
> I also think the writers read fanfiction when writing the script. So to all the authors who called most of the subplots in the movie, kudos to you. Apparently, I suck at them.

Krako loved to hear himself talk. Since leaving Spock alone with Serik, Krako had been talking mostly about himself and how Bela wasn’t going to know what hit him. Given the two choices, Jim preferred Bela more. “So what were you trying to get out of my boys, Krako?” he interrupted Krako in the middle of his tirade.

The question took the boss by surprise, making him miss Bela’s picture stapled to the dart board he was aiming at. “Thought they were Bela’s boys, or at least doing his dirty work. You know how it is Kirk, wrong place wrong time.”

“Say no more,” cause if he had Kirk wouldn’t be able to hide the eye roll. He leaned back into the chair, eying the interrogator Krako had called Bobby. For some reason, the man looked nervous. Not that Kirk blamed him while they were in the basement. Everything about Spock said, “leave now else face my wrath,” when the Vulcan walked into the room, but Bobby still seemed on edge even after entering the office with Kirk and Krako. Probably for good reason given what was about to happen.

The men Spock had been left with were no longer in the room when he and Krako had returned. Kirk couldn’t really bring himself to care about what happened to them, whether the Vulcan had knocked them out and hid them or killed them. He was inclined to believe the second but the Vulcan hadn’t killed anyone since landing on planet either.

He was just contemplating the merits of throwing a dart at Krako when Spock walked into room, hands behind his back as usual. “Are you ready to depart, Captain?”

Kirk raised an eyebrow at Spock’s relatively calm demeanor, no sign of his earlier repressed rage. He was also surprised at how right those words sounded coming from the Vulcans lips and how easy it was for Spock to say them.

“That’s good,” Kirk stood up, making his way to Spock. “You wanna head back to the ship?” he asked in a low voice.

“I have gathered what I came here for. However we cannot leave our devices in the hands of Mr. Oxymx and obtaining a dirt sample before departure would be optimal.”

“Hm, how much time do we have, and is the car ready?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at the last part of the question. “1 hour and 57 minutes and 39 seconds and . . . yes.” While he had watched Kirk drive on the way there, which he mimicked with good results when bringing the car closer to the entrance, he was wary about answering the last question due to the human’s strange tone.

“Well Krako, it’s been fun.” Kirk pulled out a revolver from his jacket, shocking both Krako and Spock. When did he pick that up? “But we got to get going.” With almost perfect aim, he shot Bobby in the head.

Both Krako and Spock were stunned at the sudden turn of events, but Kirk was already moving, grabbing Spock’s arm and guiding him to the car as Krako’s men came into the hall to find out what was going on. “You learned how to drive, right?” At Spock’s nod, he smiled. “Then drive.”

Spock took the front seat while Kirk took the back, semi surprised to see Serik unconscious in the passenger seat. Shots were taken as Spock put the car in gear, racing off as fast as the car could go in one smooth motion while Kirk covered them. “Hey! Hand me your gun!” He shouted.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Spock wordlessly handed him the gun over his shoulder. Kirk took it, placing it in easy reach. As expected, Krako’s men were following them in their own vehicles with guns drawn, but Kirk wasn’t letting them get much of a chance to take aim. There were three cars, each with gangsters leaning windows with their guns, but Kirk was unloading on them, aiming for the windows and tires.

He took out the first car quickly, killing the driver. The car swerved toward the second, missing by a hair, and crashing into a fire hydrant. Kirk laughed brightly. It was so light and happy that Spock glanced behind him to see why. It was only for a second, but it felt like much longer. Kirk’s eyes were bright, nearly glowing. His blond hair was rustling in the wind and giving him an almost innocent look. Even with the gun in his hand and the dark blue, pinstripe, gangster suit. In fact, the suit fit him just right, bringing out his light hair and eyes, and for a brief moment, Spock thought the outfit looked very agreeable on him.

Spock returned his eyes on the road. That was an illogical thought. Clothes were clothes. It shouldn’t matter what one wore as long as it was practical to the situation.

Spock took the corner hard, causing the human in the back to fall to the side and subsequently almost out of the car.  “Give a guy some warning!” he snapped.

Spock ignored him, and Jim took position once again. Even with the gun’s horrible accuracy, Kirk still managed to take out another car within the next minute, shouting out in victory. “One more to go.”

The last car however proved persistent, swerving a lot more than the others now that he was alone on the road.  Running out of his second clip, Kirk picked up Spock’s gun, firing away. He managed to kill one of the people shooting at them, but the other was proving difficult.  “Stop moving so much, I can’t get a good shot.”

“If we do not maneuver, we will most likely not surrvive,” Spock said calmly.

“Just do it!”

After a moment, Spock obeyed, keeping the car steady long enough for Kirk to take out the last car tailing them. Kirk laughed again, cheering at his own accomplishment. “How’d you like that Spock? I’m fucking awesome.”

Spock decided not to answer else risk inflating the young man’s ego, and instead quietly drove around, searching for the city dump. During the drive, quiet settled over them as the adrenaline from the chase drained. Kirk glanced at the unconscious Vulcan. He seemed to be alive, but he wasn’t moving. Was he really that injured that even the gunfight and Spock’s wild driving didn’t wake him.

“He is alive,” Spock said, answering his unasked question.

He wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. “That’s good” or “So what” didn’t seem like good options. Spock didn’t speak much let alone about himself. He kept an emotionless mask for the most part minus the glimpses of emotion only he seemed to see. The only thing he knew about Spock so far was that he was attached to his bodyguards and willing to risk much to save them. It was a weakness but not one Jim was in a position to exploit. All the Vulcans were rather tight lipped, and they could take care of themselves. But there was one question bothering Kirk. Why did Spock meld with Serik? Why would he do something so terrible to his own man if he cared so much about him?

“What you did in Mr. Krako’s house was reckless. I believed you were more intelligent than you actions suggest.”

It took a moment for Kirk to figure out what Spock was referring to then shrugged. “Consider it a gift for allowing me to get that smirk off Pike’s dick face.”

“I fail to see why I should find gratitude in the killing of the interrogator and the commotion that followed,” the Vulcan replied dryly.

“Your eyes,” he replied softly. “I know the desire for revenge when I see it.” He slid down in his seat, body hunched over with weariness. “But not everyone has the balls to do something about it.”

Silence permeated in the car once again. Eventually, they pulled up into the city dump with 32 minutes left until their time limit was up. Spock got out of the car while Kirk quickly placed Serik on the ground and got into the driver’s seat. He made a mental note that Vulcans were heavy as hell. “I’ll get our stuff from Oxmyx. I’ll be back in 20 minutes at the latest.”

Spock stared him down with the clear intent that he didn’t trust Kirk not to run off. With a roll of his eyes, Kirk reached inside his jacket and handed him a thick file.

“20 minutes,” he repeated, starting the engine. “Even I don’t want to be stuck in this backwater place even if the cars are awesome.” And with that, Kirk drove away.

Spock supposed he should consider this mission as complete. The mission went rather smoothly despite Kirk’s chaotic actions. While he took several dirt samples from the dump to be analyzed aboard the ship, he thought about Kirk. As predicted, Kirk was intelligent and creative. He could handle a weapon as well as adapt to their situation flawlessly. Spock would have taken a much more clinical approach if he had led the mission, but Kirk’s way proved to be very effective as well. 

He took 20 samples from around the dump, storing them in a coffee can he found, separated by various metals and plastics he found. Once that was finished, there was only a few minutes left until Kirk was due back. He took that time looking over the file Kirk had apparently swipe from Krako’s office.

Majority of it was useless, and Spock wondered why the human grabbed it at all. The probability that Kirk had time to actually read what he was grabbing was low and probably grabbed what he could without being noticed. Amongst the useless information there was a call log with Pike, someone having typed up their phone conversations, and a record of what happened to the landing party they had found. It was regrettable that the three officers left behind would die, but they were already logged into the system as such. Serik however was not and leaving him on planet would have showed his betrayal.

Spock looked Serik, his face softening. If Serik could see him now, he’d probably receive a lecture for showing weakness. He would receive a lecture however once he woke.

Closing the file, he waited for Kirk to return. 10 minutes before Pike’s time limit, Kirk returned. There was blood on his right shoulder, but Spock couldn’t tell if it was Kirk’s or another’s. “Back as promised,” the human said, tossing Spock his communicator. “Let’s get out of here before Chris tries to destroy the planet early.”

Spock wordlessly agreed. Pike would try to if they didn’t hurry. “Spock to _Enterprise._ Spock to _Enterprise._ ”

“Uhura here, sir.”

“Have Sovik beam us up. Mission has been successfully completed.”

“Yes, sir.”

The beam up was rough or maybe that was the day’s events catching up to Kirk. Kirk’s body felt heavy when he stepped off the transporter pad.

Sovik was behind the transporter controls, face carefully blank as he took in their appearance, saying nothing to Spock’s lack of uniform or his brother’s slump form. He came up to Spock and relieved him of Serik, carrying him bridal style out of the room and presumably to sickbay.

Spock stepped off the transporter pad as well. “Report to sickbay when you have the opportunity. Take tomorrow to recover. I expect you to resume your morning exercises with Sovik the day after.” With that, the commander left as well, carrying his coffee tin and file with him.

Kirk sighed heavily. He really did feel like crap. Was it that the planet’s gravity was lighter or was everything just hitting him at once? His head was pounding and his shoulder was killing him. Sickbay could wait, he needed sleep. 

With heavy feet, he went to his room and stripped off his clothes. Just a bit of sleep. Just a little…

* * *

 

Pike was furious. Spock was cautious when he gave his report, waiting for the man to attempt to kill him at any moment. It was obvious that the captain hadn’t expected his return. Still, Spock delivered his report, saying there was confirmation that a traitor was among the landing party, but statements on which officer could not be made due to the landing party being killed by the Iotians. The Iotians were tricked into harming the party due to the traitor and therefore hadn’t betrayed the empire. The traitor of course was Serik, and the landing party was killed due to leaving them in Krako’s hands after their little shoot out thus unable to give statements, but those details weren’t important.

Spock looked over the soil results for the tenth time, trying to decode what had been poured into the soil. He had found a compound he didn’t recognize, but decoding its chemical makeup was proving difficult for some reason. Realizing it was nearly 0200, he decided that it would be more productive to begin again in the morning, assuming Pike let him. He was in need of meditation and sleep..

Before returning to his quarters he stopped by medbay to find out Serik’s condition. He was still in surgery so McCoy was unavailable. He made a mental note to intimidate the doctor into not inquiring how Serik got into such a state.  With the right words he could imply to the doctor that Serik’s condition was due to a training session gone extremely wrong.

Returning to his quarters, his thoughts once again drifted to Kirk. He had looked pale, perhaps from blood loss from the possible shoulder injury or from the lack of recovery time from the booth. Yet Kirk had not complained or even mentioned it. He had even gotten revenge for him at the end. Why?

Meditation put his mind at ease and allowed him to reestablish his shields and put the day’s events out of his mind. The bonds were still there, one dimmed compared to the other, but there all the same. Emotions. Emotions were a hindrance. He knew that, and he let it control him. No matter what Kirk’s reasons were for being cooperative and doing him a favor, he couldn’t be trusted. Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. Tomorrow, he would be in control.

* * *

 

_He was scared. So scared. The earth wouldn’t stop shaking. The mountains were crumbling. There was screaming in the air and the collective bond was in pain. His head hurt. His katra hurt. It all hurt so much. The large hand holding his was the only safe feeling he knew as the world around him crumbled._

_But then that big, safe hand was gone, and he was left with only the pain in his mind. The safe hand was replaced with cold, brown eyes glaring down at him with hatred and disdain. He tried to reach out with his small hands to that person who so clearly despised him. The pain was too much. He needed someone, anyone. He was floundering in a sea of emotions with no one to guide him._

_As he reached for that person, she spat at him, “Don’t touch me, disgusting half-breed! You shouldn’t even exist.” He felt his eyes tear up. He didn’t understand. What did he do wrong? Why was his mind so empty? It was so empty it hurt. He needed someone, anyone, to save him from drowning in the pain and emotions that were consuming him. He curled up in the inky blackness, holding his small knees to his chest. There was no light in the abyss, and he felt himself drifting farther and farther into it._

_Suddenly, two warm minds reached out to him, pulling him out of the darkness. They were warm and filled the empty void with their presence and safety, soothing the jagged edges and putting a balm on the pain. “Nu’ri –trensu,” they said in unison._

Spock opened his eyes and slowly sat up in his bed. It had been a long time since he had that dream or even dreamed at all for that fact. He breathed in slowly before focusing on what had awoken him in the first place. He opened his communicator waiting for whoever was on the other line to speak.

“Letting you know that I finished with the surgery and he should be waking up in a day or so, so there’s no need to come storming down to my medbay with death threats about keeping it a secret that he’s here.”

“I will be there when he awakens.” Spock turned off the call and got out of bed. It would be some time until Serik awakened. He could finish the test results after his bridge shift. By the time Serik awoke he should have figured out what his captain was up to.

* * *

 

Kirk woke up in agony. His entire body was in so much pain, he felt like vomiting. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid sickbay now but at the moment he was wondering if he could even get there by himself. He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply as he sat up. His shoulder was throbbing. He probably deserved that pain though. He had forgotten to treat or even wrap it before he fell asleep.

Slowly but surely, he made his way to sickbay, cursing the overly bright hallways. Who thought it was a brilliant idea to go for white everything? They could have at least thrown in a bit of color, a red door or two, to cut back on some of the glare.

He somehow managed to stumble into sickbay. Thankfully, it was quiet and there didn’t appear to be any other patients minus the imposing Sovik standing just outside a private ward, presumably standing guard. He briefly wondered if Spock was in there or if Sovik was there by on his own, not that it was any of his business.

He had barely stepped into sickbay when he was assaulted with a hypo which led to a wide string of curses from him and a glare at the doctor who had stealth vaccinated him. “The fuck!”

“That’s what you get for letting that wound get infected!” The doctor snapped back.

It was then Kirk realized he had pretty much forgot to get dressed after rolling out of bed, meaning he was currently shirtless and wearing a lose pair of shorts. The wound was therefore clearly visible and even Kirk could tell it was inflamed from just a glance.

With a growl, McCoy ordered him onto a bed next to the private ward and, thankfully, out of view from most of sickbay. It was a bit of a relief really. He didn’t want everyone to see him like this. He was lucky enough no one saw him walk to sickbay, at least no one that he noticed. He was kind of focusing on not throwing up during his trip.  

He sat on the bed, ignoring Sovik’s stare. McCoy held up a tricorder over Kirk, making various faces and muttering insulting comments as a result.   “You should have come to me 24 hours ago, kid. And you should have told me you were in the booth.”

24 hours? How long had he been out? It didn’t feel like 24 hours since the booth incident. At Kirk’s lack of annoying banter, McCoy’s frown deepened. He left to procure two more hypos which he injected with much less ferocity than the first. “Next time, kid, don’t fight the booth so much. It’s meant to hurt. The more you resist the worse the aftereffects are. You’re lucky you didn’t pass out sooner.”

Kirk didn’t say anything as relief finally took over his body. He was used to shoving pain and discomfort into the back of his mind. It got him into trouble more than once. Like in the arena and on Tarsus. He had almost passed out at critical moments because he forced himself past his limits for too long, not even realizing how bad his own condition was. Not that anyone cared if he died or not. He was used to living alone, and he expected to die alone.

“Doctor McCoy,” the sudden low tone of Sovik startled both doctor and patient, having forgotten he was nearby.  “He is regaining consciousness.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” McCoy gave Kirk a stern look. “Don’t move.” While the doctor went to check on his other patient, Kirk laid down and let the medication take over. It felt nice to just not feel for a while. Even though he knew that in his right mind he would not be happy about being this vulnerable, at the moment he couldn’t care less. He heard slapping in the other room, and wondered why that was, but that thought slipped through his hands like water and soon he thought of nothing. He slipped into unconsciousness just as the he heard the entrance to medbay hiss open.

Spock strode across the medbay with purpose, pausing only for a moment when he caught Sovik staring at something. Following his gaze, he saw Kirk and lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Was all his guards in medbay for one reason or another?

Nodding at Sovik, he entered the private room. Serik’s dark eyes greeted him, his cheek a bit swollen and green from being slapped.

“It’s freaky that you know when they wake up. I was just about to call you to,” McCoy grumbled, taking notes from the scanners onto his PADD. Once he finished, he turned to Spock. “I want to talk to you once you’re finished and don’t take too long. He needs another day of bed rest. And no, threats won’t get him out of here any sooner.” He glared at Serik. “From either of you.”

Both Vulcans stared at the departing doctors back with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. “The doctor has gotten quite bold as of late,” Serik said. “He does not fear us as the others do.”

“Incorrect. He holds fear for us; however, he also knows he is indispensible as the only doctor of his level in the quadrant. Fortunate for him, he is sentimental and therefore, as of this moment, not a threat.”

Serik almost smiled, just the corner of his lips twitching to indicate his amusement. Serik was the mature one of the twins. Level headed and very logical in all situations. He was the most Vulcan out of all of them, and Spock respected that about him. “Please sit, nu’ri-trensu.”

Spock shook his head lightly, but took a seat nonetheless. “There is no need to refer to me by that title anymore. I have informed you and Sovik of this multiple times.”

“You will always be our nu’ri-trensu. It is you who we serve and made an oath to. As such, there was no need to come save a servant such as I.”

Spock studied Serik’s face. He barely looked older than when they first met. When Spock was younger, Serik looked so much older than he. Logically he knew that Serik was still older even if they looked the same age now, but Serik would always seem many years ahead of him unlike Sovik.

“If you had a bondmate, Sovik and I could finally sever the bonds we have with you.”

“I believe we have had enough bonds severed in our life time,” Spock whispered.

“Yet this one had you emotionally compromised enough to jeopardize yourself and therefore our people.”

Spock felt his ears turn green. It was like he was a child once again being scolded for another mistake. It was a relief. As well as shameful.

“Bond or not I would have searched for a way. We are an endangered species. It is only logical to save the few left and prevent our species demise.”

“If it was logic, I would not be speaking about the incident. I know you Spock. We have shared many melds. I know how you think. Sovik does as well. I wish to convey my gratitude to you, but it is my place to tell you when you have erred and made a decision based on emotion rather than logic.”

“I am aware of your duties, Serik.” Carefully, Spock placed a PADD on his lap. “That is why I am sending you back to New Vulcan.”

For a brief moment, alarm was in the Vulcan’s eyes. Spock knew this hurt him. Knew how much it took to make Serik show this much emotion. That what he was doing was cruel and stepping on the oath that Serik had sworn his life to. “I refuse,” he finally said.

Spock squared his shoulders, unwavering. “You are injured. Your hands are now a liability and will affect your performance therefore endangering my life. You will disembark in a week time at Starbase 6 and take another ship to reach your destination.”

Serik closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. “I ask that you reconsider, Nu’ri-trensu.”

“It is done. I have already contacted the shikh-oma.”

Emotion swirled in Serik’s eyes for another moment, and then, it was gone. All trace of what he was feeling was hidden behind an impenetrable mask. “U’khartau tu,” he responded in an emotionless voice.

Spock bowed his head and stood up. “Dif-tor heh smusma.”

“Sochya eh dif,” he responded, but it sounded automatic even for a Vulcan.

When Spock left, McCoy was waiting for him, looking angry with his arms crossed over his chest. “You really need to work on your bedside manner, Spock. You don’t tell a friend you’re sending them away when they just woke up from a damn coma.”

“Eavesdropping is a dangerous hobby, Doctor McCoy,” he said darkly.

“Get that pole out of your ass, Commander. I only came to check on him when my sensors told me there was a spike in his vitals. I don’t care what you two hobgoblins talk about as long as it doesn’t increase my work loa─.”

“What is that you wish to speak to me about, Doctor?” he interrupted. “And may I inquire as to why I was not informed that Mr. Kirk was receiving medical care?”

McCoy rolled his eyes, apparently not impressed with the Vulcan’s bad mood. “I wanted to talk to you about the kid. Just came in here not thirty minutes ago. He has a gunshot wound that’s infected, and he’s suffering from the aftereffects of the agony booth.”

“When will he be fit for duty again?”

“Good god man, at least pretend to care. You’re pushing him too hard. He’s still recovering from years of physical abuse. He doesn’t need you to pile on more. I know how often he’s been using the dermal regenerator, and he’s burning off more than he’s eating.  He’s only been on this ship for five, almost six, days. In that time he has survive a battle with a Gorn, beaten by a Vulcan multiple times, been in the agony booth, and been shot. His body can’t take much more if you don’t let him recover.”

The Vulcan stayed silent, mulling over what McCoy had said. “When will he be fit for duty?” he asked again.

Anger was clearly displayed on the doctor’s very expressive face. “My professional opinion says to give him a week. What you want to hear is he will be ready in another day or two if you give him nothing more strenuous than standard duty for three days afterwards.”

“When you release him, tell him I expect him on the bridge at 0600 the day after tomorrow. Do you require anything else?”

With thinned lips, he handed Spock a small device. “His agonizer. Don’t use it on him for at least four days. “

“Very well.” Without so much as a thank you, Spock left the medbay, leaving McCoy to continue grumbling angrily.

“Why do I even bother with these half breeds. So damn troublesome.”  Still, there was only one thing to do on a day like this. He sat behind his desk and pulled out a bottle of brandy.

([Gangster Kirk and Spock Photo](http://katsuyacrimson.deviantart.com/art/OTP-Kirk-Spock-Gangsta-Style-383946186) by Katsuya Crimson. I did not draw this)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe you guys. You thought I killed Serik. You guys think I'm that heartless? I kill of a character or two, one time and you all think I kill all my OCs. Pssh. You'd only be right 75 percent of the time.
> 
> As you can tell, this chapter was pretty much supposed to be tacked on to the last. I just didn't think I'd write it out so fast. And before anyone asks, no Spock isn't romantically involved with the twins.
> 
> shikh-oma: council  
> U’khartau tu: As you command  
> Dif-tor heh smusma: Live long and prosper  
> Sochya eh dif: Peace and long life
> 
>  
> 
> Comment please!


	6. Making Relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've watched Beyond 3 times in less than two weeks. . . yup the Uhura Spock thing still pisses me off. So the whole Serik, Sovik thing I had one vote for twincest, one for brotherly love, and one for hell no. So I'm going to do ambiguous. Take it however you want. (Kind of like Kirk and Spock in the TV show except we all know the reason why Kirk said Spock's name during that back massage now don't we).

After his master left, Serik stared at the wall, his face a perfect mask even as his brother entered the room. Sovik went to his side, getting down on one knee. “Sa-kai,” Sovik, said. “I am gratified that you are well.”

Serik’s dark eyes flickered over to his brother’s bowed head. “How much did you hear?”

“I was standing guard outside your room.”

The younger brother’s lips thinned and returned his gaze to the wall.

“Nu’ri-trensu is trying to protect you, Sa-kai.”

“Do you wish for me to abandon my duties as well?”

“You are well aware of what I desire, Serik. It is the same thing you desire. But I also agree that you are vulnerable, which makes you a target amongst these humans.” Sovik fingertips brushed brother’s heavily bandaged hands. “You cannot even feel. How do you expect to carry out your duties in this state? It is logical to send you back to New Vulcan. I cannot disagree with the nu’ri-trensu on that.”

Serik went silent once again, staring at his hands as if lost in thought. Finally, he said, “Sovik, you do not need to kneel. You are the eldest.”

Sovek allowed his mouth to twitch upwards. “The clan is well aware that you are more suited to be clan head than I. And I am certain that with the commander’s words, this incident will not affect their decision.”

“If it were 25 years ago, I would not doubt your words, but Nero has changed much. Romulan blood is considered more tainted than human amongst our people right now.”

“They would be fools to pass over you, Sa-kai. It is only logical.”

“I would agree; however, racism is rarely logical,” Serik turned his head to look at his brother. “When was the last time you have slept?”

“I am well. I do not mind staying guard over you.”

Serik’s hard face softened for the first time since Sovik had entered. “Sovik, meditate, sleep, then continue protecting the young master.”

“Dinam…”

“Our duty is to protect, serve, and be there for the young master. You have left him alone with human guards. You know better.”

“I do. But you are also the only family I have left. Nu’ri-trensu knows this as well.” Serik gave his twin a stern look. “It is only for two days. He is no longer a child.”

“Sovik,” he said again.

“As you wish.” Sovik stood, tugging on the bottom of his shirt. “Please rest.”

Sovik nodded, watching his brother leave. He waited and waited. After 15 minutes, he pushed the covers back and got out of bed. It was a struggle to get into his uniform, but he had little time to get to his destination without a large audience.

He pushed back the pain as he walked out of sickbay, standing straight despite the pain in his side. A few of the crew members gave him odd looks due to his hands. He didn’t pay them any attention. The sooner he could get this done the better. No matter what, the commander could not find out.

The lunch period was just ending, majority of the crew had already returned to work, so the mess hall was rather empty, except for the lone doctor sitting in a corner with his salad and sandwich. The doctor usually came when there was as little crew around as possible and finished his meal within ten minutes. He was already halfway finished when Serik approached him.

At the Vulcan’s presence, the doctor scowled, anger clouding his features. “You have two seconds to explain why you’re out of bed before I use you for my next medical experiment.”

“Doctor,” at the serious tone of Serik’s voice, McCoy sat up a bit straighter. “I would like to undergo the surgery.”

The doctor’s mouth opened then closed then opened again in obvious shock. “Did Spock approve of this? Because I won’t have him coming after my ass for this.”

“It is my body, and I will do what I see fit with it.”

The doctor still seemed uncertain, thinking of the pros and cons of what Serik was asking him to do. “He’s gonna kill me. The damn hobgoblin is going to murder me in my sleep,” he muttered. Louder and with a touch of sympathy in his eyes, he said, “You know he might not let you stay even if you do this, right?”

“I am aware.”

Sighing and rubbing his head furiously, McCoy looked up and sighed again. “Alright then. I’ll get the surgery room ready.”

* * *

Jim rolled over onto his side, sighing heavily. As his awareness came back to him, he noticed people talking in hushed whispers. He wondered why people were talking in his room when his memory finally started coming back to him. He was in sick bay he recalled, opening his eyes. He had felt like death and came to see if the doctor could do something about it.

On the bright side, the medication still seemed to be working. Unfortunately, that also meant most of his body still felt pretty numb. His mind however was sharp. Weakness wasn’t something he tolerated, and he had been in sickbay for far longer than he would have liked.

He didn’t see McCoy anywhere and was eager to take the chance to slip out without being seen. “You!” Jim winced at the doctor’s voice, pausing in the middle of his escape attempt.

“Bones!” Slowly he turned around only to be hit on the back of his head by the doctor. “Fucker!” he hissed.

“I didn’t say you could leave. I swear between you and the half breeds, you make my job four times harder.”

For a brief moment, Jim wondered who McCoy was talking about. While having sex with another species wasn’t frowned upon, having children born from the union was. Especially if medical intervention was required, and ninety percent of the time, it was. Few parents would go through the hassle or would want to subjugate their children to a future of scorn.

Then Jim remembered he didn’t really care. It wasn’t his problem, and it probably wouldn’t do any good to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong. Not without some sort of reward at least. Besides, sickbay gave him bad memories.

Something must have slipped into his expression because the doctor looked away, scratching the back of his head.  “Listen kid, I got my hands on some brandy, the good stuff, not that replicated horse piss they try to jam down our throats. If you want, you can join me for a glass or two in my quarters after my shift ends in a couple hours.”

At the invitation, Jim’s casual demeanor vanished, replaced with a sharp look and a stiff body. Everything about him screamed defensive and there was even a hint that the slave would kill the doctor if he so much took one step near him. “No thanks.”

The change seemed to surprise McCoy, and he became wary himself. “Look, I ain’t hitting on you or anything. I’ve been in surgery the past three hours, and I could use a bit more traditional medicine. You aren’t completely annoying, so I thought a bit of a chat wouldn’t be so bad.”

When Jim’s expression didn’t change, the doctor snapped. “You know what, forget I asked.”  The doctor stormed off only pausing to yell at Jim some more. “And don’t you dare go sparring with those damn green blooded bastards. And eat! And make sure you’re on the bridge at 0600 tomorrow!”

The slave couldn’t help but give him an inane stare at the commands.  Of course the doctor was too furious to care. He couldn’t understand why the doctor was so pissed. Only a complete moron would waltz into someone’s quarters alone.  Murder and sexual assault wasn’t uncommon and the doctor had shown his slightly sadistic side the day he had arrived when he used him as a guinea pig when applying those hypos.

Jim watched in the distance as McCoy grumbled to himself, apparently flustered as he seemed to fight down his embarrassment through monologuing to himself using southern metaphors. It was a shame, he thought. He had really thought the doctor was different.  That perhaps maybe he wanted to be his friend.

Not that he needed friends, he reminded himself. He survived without them for 25 years. Trust was for people who couldn’t take care of themselves and had a dependency on others. And Jim Kirk wasn’t weak.

He left the sickbay with the intention to use the remaining time of his day off to the fullest. There was only a couple hours left in the ship day since he slept through most of it.

He stopped by his room to change into a pair of clean shorts and shirt and headed to the gym. McCoy’s warnings echoed in his head as he landed the first punch on the punching bag. It didn’t stop him from hitting it again and again. His body fell into a rhythm with the bag. The bag would swing back towards him and his feet would move back to keep the space between them as he set in another combo.

It was familiar, his fists pounding against something. He could use technique or not. There was no consequence for either decision.  He could move the way he felt like and concentrate on the pain in his fists, the burn of his muscles, the sweat on his skin. He could ignore the weariness of his body and the vulnerability he had felt the past two days.                 

“You know you should wrap up your hands. You’ll last longer that way.”

Jim turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of the speaker.  She had chocolate skin and long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a grey sports bra and a pair of shorts, and she was lean but defined. He didn’t lose his rhythm, continuing his workout without faltering from the distraction.  “Slaves don’t have the luxury of tape or wrap. Besides, sometimes you just want to feel the sting.”

“You won’t say that when you destroy your tendons,” she walked to the other side of the bag. “Want me to hold it for you?”

“I like the swing,” he said, but stopped he bag anyway. “So what do you want?”

“Who said I want something,” the woman replied perfectly. “Perhaps I just wanted to use the bag or ask for a spar?”

Jim gave her a suave smile. “Of course you did.” He gestured to the bag. “Go right ahead. I’m done anyway.” He started to walk away.

“Hey, can you at least offer to hold the bag for me?”

Jim had to shove down the aggravation to keep the polite smile. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes.” After all, he might be able to figure out why she was bothering him and use it against her if he needed to.

Kirk held the bag, waiting for the woman to do whatever she was going to do. He hadn’t expected such a strong kick that had him stumble back in surprise, though he probably shouldn’t have been since she obviously hit the gym with the six pack she had. Rooting himself, he was ready for the next onslaught.

“So,” she spoke as she delivered several powerful kicks to the bag. “What’s it like to work for the ship’s walking computer?”

“I could be back at the arena. You decide which is worse.”

She gave another strong kick. “Fair point.” She put in a few punches and another kick. "So. . . have you tried the ship's whiskey yet?"

Sighing, Kirk took a step back. “Seriously, what do you want? I really can’t fake being polite right now.”

“I told you. I don’t want anything.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “You have to know who I am. The whole damn ship knows. So why are you talking to me?”

The woman narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. “Yeah, I know who you are, and I don’t care. You aren’t your father, so why should I care what he did?”

Jim shifted to his other foot and crossed his arms, hiding his surprise at her response. “Fine, say I believe you. Doesn’t explain why you’re talking to me.”

She huffed but crossed her arms as well. Her eyes flickered to the side, the only sign of her discomfort. “I was hoping you could give me information on the commander.”

At first, he didn’t say anything, letting the silence drag on as he kept her gaze. As the time extended, her discomfort grew, a small blush on her cheeks making itself known as well as the fidgeting. Finally it dawned on him what she wanted. “You want to fuck him.” He tilted his head. “Or kill him.”

“So what if I do.” She took a few steps forward so that she was barely half a foot away from him. “He’s hot, and he has rank,” she let the words roll off her tongue almost sensually. “And he’s Vulcan. Never had a Vulcan before.”

A snort escaped his lips. “So you want a notch in your belt and get a chance to sleep up the ranks.”

“Listen up farm boy,” she stabbed a perfectly manicured nail into his chest. “I don’t need to sleep up the ranks. My skills in xenolinguistics are unmatched. But even a woman has needs.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He replied looking her body up and down.  “But he’s kind of cold for someone of your . . . ferocity isn’t he?”

A playful smile pulled at her lips. “Don’t know much about Vulcans, do you? They can be aggressive if push the right buttons. Especially with so few of them left.”

Jim had to admit the thought intrigued him. “Alright, I’ll give you give you something to work with if you tell me what you know about McCoy.”

She raised an eyebrow as if asking if that was the type he went for but didn’t voice her opinion out loud. “Not much to say about that southern hick. He’s short tempered, loves working and alcohol, and has no friends or allies. It's also known that he’s a bit of a bleeding heart. The only reason no one's assassinated him is because he’s willing to patch you up for the most part and can cure anything.”

“Nothing else?” he pressed. “Does he sleep around or hang out with anyone or gives out special treatment? Or perhaps something about him assaulting someone or drugging them?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Rumor has it he drinks in his quarters every night by himself ever since he got news that his ex-wife killed his daughter a few years ago. The only person who might be called his friend is Commander Spock, but they both hate each other.”

That wasn’t what Jim had been expecting to hear. The doctor really didn’t come off as the drink alone type with how lively he was around him and Spock.

“Hey, I held up my end of the bargain. Your turn.”

 There was nothing to tell really, and he really didn’t think he knew more than the crew that had been working under him for who knew how long. Still, he didn’t want to piss her off if she could still prove useful in the future. “He works out in the mornings with Serik around 4 am. Serik however found himself in an accident and won’t be available for a few days.”

Her eyes lit up at the information, so Jim figured it was enough payment.  Sure enough, she mumbled a goodbye and hurried out the gym. Jim left at a slower pace. His shoulder was throbbing, but he categorized it as minor discomfort and left as well.

* * *

Brandy should be handmade, not replicated, McCoy thought as he swished the liquid inside its glass. The lights were dim and an old holo was playing in the corner.  He really didn’t get enough respect or days off on the ship. If it didn’t pay so well, he’d have stayed in Georgia at his clinic.

The protagonist just escaped from the government spies when there was a knock on his door. Eyes narrowing, he reached under the table to draw his phaser. “Enter.”

The door hissed open, and Jim entered with a tentative smile. “Still want company?”

“Jesus, kid, give me a heart attack will ya?” The doctor relaxed into his chair, putting down the phaser next to his glass.

“I knocked. Not my fault you’re paranoid.” The slave stepped further into the room his eyes scanning everything in sight. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the room or any other weapons minus the phaser on the table. “The offer for a drink still available.”

McCoy’s eyes widened then a scowl covered his features. “You already barged your way in here like an elephant. Do what you want.”

Jim thought of mentioning that it was the doctor that invited him AND let him in, but the soft smile on the doctor’s lips that he tried to hide behind his glass was enough to stop him.

“So, what movie are you watching?” he asked, taking a seat across from McCoy. He didn’t touch anything else though even after McCoy filled Jim’s cup.

“Something too old for you to know. It’s called Bourne. Secret agent stuff. You know when movies were actually good.”

A laugh escaped the young man. “That is old, but I prefer a little older. Before the turn of the 21st century.  I always wanted to say, ‘This is not the droid you are looking for’. Or even better, ‘Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn’.”

“Damn, that is old. I don’t go for the black and white crap, but whatever floats your boat.” McCoy took a sip. “And don’t think I can’t tell you’ve been in the gym.” Jim just waved him off. “It wasn’t the hobgoblin’s idea was it?” At the mention of Spock, McCoy’s voice lowered into almost a growl.

“No, haven’t seen him or his guards since I woke up. I just needed to punch something,” he said the way a stubborn child would.  “You wouldn’t understand.” Leaning forward, he snatched McCoy’s cup and downed the rest of the burgundy liquid.

“More than you think,” he said quietly, drinking from the cup he had poured for Jim.

They both sat and watched the movie for a bit, letting the tension ease up between them. Of course Kirk kept a sharp eye on McCoy, but the doctor didn’t do anything except slide further into his chair, keeping all sides open around him. He was vulnerable.  Something Jim wasn’t used to seeing in other people, and it baffled him that anyone would trust him enough. The phaser was still nearby so he was still being cautious, but it did not seem that the doctor thought he needed it.

“You should thank the green blooded bastard you know.”

“And why should I do that?”

“That bastard is smart, but more cold-blooded than a reptile. I’ve seen him torture a guy for something out of anyone’s control. He’s manipulative, stubborn, and not likeable in the least.” He glanced over at Jim. “But he’s loyal to those he respects.”

“What’s that have to do with anything? The bastard could give two shits about me.”

“True. I told him you needed a week off to rest and he pretty much threatened me to have you ready by tomorrow.” McCoy paused the movie, so he could look at Jim. “Haven’t you wondered why Pike hasn’t been sniffing around you?”

Honestly, Jim hadn’t even thought about it which in a way disturbed him. “Did Spock do something?”

“Sure as hell did. Thought Pike was going to throw him in the agony booth. He’s thrown everyone else in it the past two days. Whatever happened on Sigma Iotia II, Pike was pissed about the outcome. The commander has been borderline insubordinate to make sure he didn’t come after you or the hobgoblin duo.”

It didn’t make sense why Spock would look after him. They hated each other.

“He respects you. Whatever you did down there, you earned his respect. That is enough to get the captain off your back.  Say what you want about him, but when he respects you, he’ll put out a little more effort.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.” He said starting the movie again. “Just saying there’s a reason those hobgoblins stick together, and it ain’t because they’re apart of the same species.”

“Respect huh,” he murmured. He didn’t think he did anything to earn respect, but it was something to think about. “You wouldn’t happen to know when Spock is ever alone, do you?”

The comment brought the doctor on alert, suddenly on guard because of it. “Why you want to know?”

“You wanted me to apologize right?” It was a poor excuse and they both knew it. Jim could ask for permission into Spock’s quarters if that was the case. McCoy had every right to not tell him.

“He’s never alone except in his quarters,” the doctor said slowly. When Jim just nodded and went back to the movie he added, “And once a month, he goes into the observation deck by himself. It’s random every month. But it’s the end of the month and he hasn’t gone yet.”

“Thanks,” he said. For the rest of the night, they drank in silence. During parts, McCoy looked lost in thought and sadness would overtake his expression before downing a glass of alcohol as if to chase the thoughts away. McCoy was only six years older than him, but during those times, the man seemed to age in front of him.

When the movie ended, McCoy was passed out drunk, having consumed most of the bottle of liquor. Uncertain if he should leave, Jim got up to clean up the bottles and glasses. McCoy’s quarters looked barely lived in. The bed was untouched, the desk unused, and the sitting area clean.  The only thing that seemed to have had any usage was the small dining table that he was currently sleeping at.

Frowning at the revelation, Jim found a blanket and draped it over the man’s shoulders. “Take it easy Bones,” he whispered, patting his shoulder. Without anything else to do, he left, locking the door behind him.

* * *

“First officer’s log, stardate 2258.32. I have discovered the entirety of the captain’s plot.” Spock placed the sample slide into his pocket. “The compound the captain had been using was indeed unknown previously to the public. It is a slow working compound in the fact that the chemical must first be absorbed into the soil and have time to sink into the deeper layer of the planet’s crust. The purpose of the chemical is to compress lithium composites into dilithium crystals. Natural occurrences of this process take an average of 11 million years under extreme heating and cooling and chance. This chemical forces the reaction earlier and quicker. The result can be and will be quite devastating to the planet. The forced reaction will eventually cause massive earthquakes and volcanic eruptions as the compounds that make up the core will shift into dilithium mines. The result could ruin the planet’s ecosystem and cause instability.

“Captain Pike planned to exterminate Sigma Iotia II’s inhabitants. As the planet has previously been labeled as useless from its primitive technology and lack of materials, the Empire would not have any interest once the inhabitants were dead for three point four decades, leaving the captain to secretly mine the dilithium.

“As for the assassination of half the landing party, as I had suspected, the returning party had collaborated with Pike to help themselves rise up the ranks. They had not planned for Lieutenant Sulu to become Security Chief or Lieutenant Uhura to become chief communications officer.  I have selected Ms. Uhura for the position because of her skills in xenolinguistics. I do not however understand why Captain Pike promoted Mr. Sulu. “

Spock turned off the logs and folded his hands. What Pike was doing wasn’t ethically correct, Starfleet rarely was, and truthfully it had nothing to do with Spock. He investigated to ensure his life and people. No one else’s. The Iotians’ fate was unfortunate but not uncommon. The tragic part was they had a hand in their own destruction.

He picked up his personal tricorder and PADD, ready to leave the lab when a young ensign came rushing into the lab. “P-permission to enter M-Mr. Spock,” the young woman panted, her face red and covered in sweat.

“Is this important, Ensign?”

“Yes, sir.” The young woman straightened herself and tried to regain her composure.

“Permission granted.”

Relieved, the young woman hurried to his side and pushed a PADD into his hands. “I apologize, sir, but I,” she looked nervous, “your phaser seemed strange for some reason when you returned from your mission, so I took the liberty of having it scanned.”

Spock stared her down, making the woman stop in the middle of her explanation. “Touching another officer’s phaser has significant consequences, Ensign.”

“P-please hear me out, sir,” she stammered. “I scanned it and well. . . look.”

Spock kept a careful eye on her even as he looked at the PADD. He resisted letting his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“If you had pulled the trigger of your phaser, sir. . .”

“The power pack would have exploded,” he finished for her. Someone had tampered with or replaced his weapon. A feat not so easily accomplished when it was rarely out of his sight. If they had not been caught off guard by the Iotians, he would have fired his weapon, and he and Kirk would have perished.

The woman fidgeted in place, waiting for him to say anything. Spock was pleased that she hadn’t run. He would have definitely punished her if she had while he was distracted. “What did you do with the weapon?”

“I left it in a security safe in the weapons lab. I didn’t want to remove it without consulting you . . . more than I already have anyway.”

Her name was Leila Kalomi from the weapon’s department if he recalled correctly. She had attended the academy with him. She always lacked the hostile behavior and seemed to talk about peace among races. Not Starfleet material in the slightest, which was why she never got promoted. She often hovered around him at the academy. He had no idea why. After two years, he barely paid attention to her presence. Now she was helping him. He never understood what she expected in return.

“Have it properly disposed of. If an event similar to this arises again, inform me before acting independently.”

 She nodded, smiling shyly at him the moment she realized she wasn’t going to be punished. “Thank you, sir.” She rushed off to presumably to the weapons lab.

It made more sense now why Pike wanted him to go with little to no personal. It would force Spock to take care of threats himself therefore using his phaser. It appeared Pike now became his problem.

* * *

Normally when he came to the gym in the early morning, there were no crew members in the second gym. Most went to the first where the cardio machines were.  Sparring was usually an evening workout where the crew could take the day’s pent up anger and tension out on each other. So when he saw Lieutenant Uhura doing some warm ups, Spock had to repress his surprise.

“Commander Spock, what a surprise to see you here.” The lieutenant spread her legs to touch the floor, her backside facing Spock. “I didn’t know you worked out.”

“As there are a high number of assassinations on Starfleet vessels it is only logical that I maintain my skills and physique,” Spock said carefully.

She gave a melodic laugh. “I’m sorry, I forget. It always looks so easy when you fight.” She slowly came out of her stretch. “A sharp intellect and stronger than any human. A lethal combo.”

“Some would say.”

With a blank face, Spock watched the woman come closer to him. “I would be honored to work out with you, Commander. I wouldn’t mind seeing some of your ‘techniques’.”

“I do not think it would be wise to spar against you. I would have too much of an advantage in close quarters combat.” The lieutenant walked behind him and Spock did not move, tensing his body to attack if she tried anything.

“I don’t know,” she almost sang. “I think you’d find me to be a good match for you. I believe you said I demonstrated unparalleled oral sensitivity.”

“I do not understand what xenolinguistics has to do with sparring.”

She placed hand on his forearm from behind, sliding down. She just touched the back of his bare hands when she found herself pulled forward only to have her arm twisted painfully behind her back and forced to take a knee. “An assassination attempt of such obvious nature will not work on me.” He released her and let her fall to the ground as he hurried to his workout bag to grab his gloves and put them on with haste.

She seemed shocked, her mouth gaping as she scrambled to get to her feet. “Commander, you don’t under-“

“Because you have above average skills in your department, I will overlook this incident as it was so poorly executed. Another attempt and I will forgo the agony booth and carry out the following punishment which is execution. Is that clear?”

Too stunned to say anything, she merely nodded her head.

Spock left the gym only to bump into Kirk. The smell of alcohol lingered around the human, indicating he had been intoxicated that night before though not heavily as his eyes seemed alert even if his body showed signs of stiffness. “Rough morning?”

Spock glared. “Were you aware of this?”

“Aware of what?” he asked innocently. “I just came down here to use the gym.”

There was no proof that the slave was aware, just a feeling. “I did not know you were friends with Lieutenant Uhura.”

This time real confusion filled his face. “Uhura? Who’s that?”

Thinning his lips, Spock murmured never mind and continued on his way.

* * *

The bridge shift was nearly unbearable. It was only the second time he was on the bridge, but it was ten times worse than the last. Spock was in a foul mood. It may not have shown in his expression, but it was clear in the way he coldly dismissed Serik from the bridge when he showed up to work and was replaced by a human guard Jim had never seen before. Spock was also more precise and direct in his questions and answers than usual, making the words have a sharp edge.

Pike on the other hand was acting like a rabid dog, using agonizers on everyone he could. A poor yeoman was subjugated to the device for nearly a minute for sneezing too loud and was accused for disturbing the concentration on the bridge. Everyone was tense, and no one spoke. It was a relief when it was over.

Once the shift ended and Spock dismissed him, Jim headed to engineering. “Hey, Scotty.”

“Where have you been lad? I’ve been waiting nearly five bloody minutes. I thought I’d have to get one of my own engineers. Now that would have been a tragedy.” Jim nearly laughed. Scotty had been teaching him all sorts of things though the engineer probably hadn’t realized it yet.

“Sure thing, what do you want me to do?”

The engineer led him to the back office. Jim had discovered that the tiny office actually belonged to Scotty during his last visit. The numerous amounts of spare parts had been cleared out, so there was significantly more space compared to last time.  A small device was on the desk with a box of parts next to it.

“I have to do maintenance on turbolift four, so I don’t have much time to fix this little beauty here. It’s an advanced hologram cloaking system. It tends to glitch whenever the item it’s cloaking is disturbed.  I left instructions in case you need it.”

Jim glanced at the PADD on the desk. “I got it. Don’t worry about it.”

Scotty grinned, slapping Jim’s shoulder. “Knew I could count on you lad.”

The engineer left Jim alone in the office. Jim took one look at the PADD and pushed it aside without even glancing at the contents. It took him a good part of four hours to finish it. Scotty was surprised it had taken him so long and asked if the instructions weren’t clear or if there was another problem. Jim shrugged it off giving a vague answer. Scotty sent him a curious look but didn’t ask again and instead asked if he would come by again the following day. Having nothing else better to do, he agreed as long as Spock would let him.

Afterwards, he caught a late dinner with McCoy and went to his room to rest. A short nap did wonders. His body ached less and the fatigue was nearly gone. Around midnight he woke and made his way to deck 30 to wait out the night.

* * *

Spock returned to the gym the following morning with a new phaser attached to his hip. Thankfully, the lieutenant was nowhere to be seen, but he was not expecting to see Serik waiting for him in his sparring robes. “Serik.”

“Spock. I have come for our sparring session,” the way Serik spoke made Spock grip his bag with more force than necessary. The tone Serik used was not appropriate. He spoke as if Spock was beneath him, a tone Spock often heard as a child from Serik before he reached his teen years. And one he had heard from Serik every morning for the past 25 years.

“Return  to sickbay. That is an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

“A child does not give commands to one’s teacher,” Serik said smoothly, rising from his seated position. “It is time for today’s lesson Spock. Remove your gloves and show respect to your opponent.”

“This is illogical, and you are insubordinate. Being around humans has adversely affected you.  Sending you to New Vulcan was the correct decision.”

Spock turned his back to him, intending to leave when Serik pulled him back by his shirt’s collar. Spock reacted, taking a step back to balance himself and turning to Serik to land a punch. Serik caught the attack in his left hand, guiding the punch to miss his face, and stepped forward into Spock’s open left side, his right fist already countering with three sharp jabs to Spock’s ribs.

The breath left Spock’s lungs but still reacted by grabbing a hold of Serik’s right wrist, surprised by the gloves the older Vulcan wore. Spock meant to throw him, but Serik was quicker, turning and throwing Spock over his shoulder and slamming him against the mat.

“You have left yourself open because you assumed I was weak. While I commend you for going after my weakness, he had failed to calculate what to do if your plan went awry quick enough or consider that I was hoping you would exploit it. Fallacies like that will get you killed, Spock. I have taught you otherwise.”

The reprimanding tone of his teacher almost made Spock forget that Serik’s hands was suddenly healed. Almost. He had seen the scans, how beyond repair his hands were even with advanced surgery and years of therapy. It should have a very weak grip and slow reflexes, but it hadn’t. It moved as if it nothing had happened, and there was the gloves to consider as well. “Why do you not remove your gloves?”

Serik’s face closed off. “It is of no consequence. As you can see, I can perform my duties with the same proficiency as before.”

“The probability of that event occurring is nearly zero by normal means. What procedure did you use?”

Serik looked at him unwavering, but he did not answer.

“Remove your gloves.” When Serik made no move for them, Spock said it louder with more authority. “As your nu’ri-trensu, I order you to remove them.”

Serik blinked slowly as if sighing then did as he was told, removing the black gloves.

Spock took off his own gloves and grabbed Serik’s hand. The contact was all he needed to know what Serik had done. He couldn’t ask why he would do this because Spock knew the reason. He was the reason. Spock had underestimated his resolve.  Anger and self loathing grew in Spock’s mind and he was barely able to contain it. “Is Sovik aware of what you have done?”

“He is not,” Serik replied, a hint of regret in his eyes.

“When is your next pon farr?”

“Three years, two months, and three days approximately,” the Vulcan replied without hesitation despite the personal question.

Spock placed his gloves in his bag, and Serik waited for permission to reequip his. Bowing to Serik, he said, “I am ready for the lesson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking that putting the Vulcan at the end of the story would be cool because you guys can learn the Vulcan and try to figure it out on your own during the story (I can actually read some Vulcan in other people's stories now without having to read the translation), but I was informed that's too much work and to put it in parenthesis next to it or something. Personally, I think putting the translations there ruins the flow of the story. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Vulcan
> 
> Sa-Kai: brother
> 
> Romulan
> 
> Dinam: brother
> 
> Last thing, comment minions. Not just my work, but others as well. We (usually) put in a lot of effort out into our stories. I personally spend a lot of time looking up Romulan, Vulcan, Klingon, French, German, and Japanese for my stories and hours on Alpha-Beta Star Trek wiki to make sure everything is accurate to the universe. Other people (not me cause I'm an idiot) spend hours plotting out the story line or consulting or major editing. We like to know how we are doing and what needs to be improved on. I hate rereading my stories and realizing that there were some major spelling mistakes that I missed or plot holes or things not addressed. Not saying be mean or overly positive, but tell us what you think. It reminds us people care about the stories we write and gives us encouragement.


	7. Trust Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Star Trek Anniversary! 
> 
> I was watching Tarzan this weekend and I was happily reminded that that movie was where cardinal Rule started. The entire story was based off the song, "You'll Be In My Heart". Also, there's a character in the TV series named Jabari. ;)
> 
> Also, I apologize. Normally I have someone reading these stories to offer at least some feedback even though she doesn't edit it. Well, I don't even have that anymore. So I don't think this chapter is good, and I cut the action to the next chapter. すみません.

Serik threw Spock over his shoulder, causing the young Vulcan to almost land head first onto the mat. Spock adjusted his body so his feet would touch first, holding himself up and keeping his back from touching the mat. That is, until Serik put his weight on Spock at the last second. Not prepared for the extra weight, Spock couldn’t keep the position and fell hard onto his backside.

Serik stood up as Spock lay on the floor panting. Serik was breathing harder than usual; no doubt from the relentless attacks on his injured side Spock dealt him. “Again.”

Spock sat up into a seated position. “I must depart. I have yet to compile this month’s report.”

Serik nodded, putting his hands behind his back and reverting back into his submissive role flawlessly. “Very well, Commander. I presume it is for tonight?”

“Indeed.” Taking a moment to assess the strain on his left arm, Spock went to retrieve his gloves.

Just as he pulled on the last glove, Serik placed a hand briefly on Spock’s shoulder, the touch light and fleeting. “Do not forget who you are, Spock. Do not permit anyone to belittle you. You have brought glory to our people and you keep us safe.  You are no longer a child to be pushed around.”

Spock relaxed but his words were still tense as he spoke.  “That is quite sentimental for you Serik. Perhaps your shields are not yet adequate.”

“When one is faced with mortality, coming to terms with what is, past and present, comes rather naturally.” Serik did not smile, but his eyes were alight with amusement. “I have come to terms that I am not fully Vulcan. It is not logical to fight what I am or am not. Something you have yet to learn.”

Annoyance flashed in Spock’s eyes at the jab, but he didn’t deny it. “Your halves are more compatible than my own.” Having finished packing his gym bag, Spock was ready to leave and end the conversation. “I will meet you on the bridge.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Spock left the gym only to have Sovik at his side a moment later. The twins were good at always having at least one of them accompanying him at all times without him saying a word. Sovik was silent as they walked back to the commander’s quarters.  The quiet gave Spock time to go over the day’s agenda. Pike had yet to make a move. If his calculations were correct, the captain would request to meet with him soon.

Kirk on the other hand had been rather well behaved since leaving sickbay. He showed up to the bridge on time, and stayed out of trouble. That in itself was cause for suspicion. The slave was once again spending his free time with the chief medical officer and chief engineer. According to Spock’s sources, Kirk had even helped out the engineer a couple times. So the human had engineering skills as well as fighting capability. It could come in handy if Kirk managed to stay well behaved. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem too likely.

First Pike, then Kirk, then Serik. He hadn’t been able to spare any time for his scientific duties, and he did want to go back to them. But he had to deal with them first. Pike he would handle as it came, Kirk was too unpredictable to predict what trouble he would stir up next, and Serik . . .

Perhaps this debriefing would be a fortuitous occasion after all. Though unlikely, he had yet to ask a favor of her, so she might listen. Perhaps she could help solve his dilemma with Serik.

“Commander.” The Vulcan’s voice pulled Spock out of his thoughts. It was unlike him to become so preoccupied that it would show outwardly. He had stopped in front of his quarters and had not yet entered. Though asking for a favor could benefit him greatly, the meeting that awaited him still bore heavy on his mind as it did every time. He was old enough that it should not trouble him as it did.

Sovik remained keeping guard outside his quarters as he prepared for his shift. There were still a couple more days until Kirk resumed training with Serik, so the elder Vulcan most likely returned to his quarters as well.

Cleaned and dressed for the day, Spock left his quarters intending to arrive on the bridge fifteen minutes early as usual. Unexpectedly, Kirk was standing beside Sovik. Until now, Kirk had always arrived on the bridge just before he was due to arrive. The human stood at attention, waiting for Spock to emerge and escort his Vulcan commander to the bridge.

The feel that Kirk was up to something intensified. Or perhaps the human was not as well as the doctor believed. Sovik seemed to have the same opinion, keeping a firm eye on Kirk as the three made their way to the bridge.

The moment Spock stepped off the turbolift, the entire bridge crew grew tense and whatever light hearted atmosphere that may have been evaporated. With the obvious dissonance between himself and the captain, it was no wonder the crew was wary, and Spock knew it could not continue for long. From previous experience, Spock knew that eventually the atmosphere would cause a crew member to attempt to relieve the pressure, usually through assassination. No matter how tentative the captain and Spock’s relationship had been prior, it would have to be restored else one of them would have to go.

Pike never came to the bridge for his shift. When Spock inquired of the captain’s whereabouts, he only received a scathing remark in returned and orders to meet in Pike’s office after shift. The crew took the news rather well since they wouldn’t be subjected to the captain’s ire. Conversation amongst the crew continued and for once Spock allowed it.

There was little to do in terms of duty. They were heading to their next destination, Starbase 6, for a little R and R. Serik came to relieve Sovik for lunch exactly at noon. Sovik had questions about why his twin was working, but he held his questions when Spock didn’t scold him for it like he had the previous day. Kirk couldn’t hide his curiosity however. The young man kept looking back and forth between Spock and Serik but was wise enough not to say anything.

With little to do, it was simple for Spock to keep an eye on Kirk and the scanners. The human really couldn’t hide his thoughts from his expression. The first day the human had been on the bridge, he had been obviously bored and restless. Today, the boredom seemed to be replaced with curiosity, ranging from the crewmember’s conversations to watching them work. No doubt it was the engineer’s influence that raised Kirk’s curiosity.

Spock noted the length of time Kirk spent with the engineer and the details of the small engineering projects he had been working on, but it was a wonder in itself that the engineer had taken to anyone. The best engineers hardly impressed Mr. Scott. Similarly, the chief medical officer had also taken a liking to Kirk, spending many of their evenings together in the rec room or cafeteria. For the alcoholic of a doctor to willingly spend time outside his room with another person was another mystery.

Sovik came back to release Kirk for lunch at two and predictably, he was off to help Mr. Scott with yet another project. With Kirk gone, he found himself able to concentrate with a better efficiency until the end of his shift.

The twins followed him from the bridge to Pike’s office, ready to follow their master inside until Spock signaled them to remain. Pike’s guards eyed Spock’s as Sovik and Serik took position outside the door. Spock entered to see Pike sitting behind his desk with PADDs scattered all over his desk. Perhaps others would have believed that the captain had been working the entire day; Spock was not. The smell of sex lingered heavily in the room, the air purifier having yet cleansed the air to hide it. It would not even be a surprise if the woman was still there, hiding under the desk pleasuring the captain during this meeting. It would not have been the first time.

“Have a seat commander,” he waved to the chair in front of the desk. Pike’s tone was rather a pleasant one, indicating he had indeed spent the day relieving his anger just for this confrontation.

While preferring to stand, Spock took a seat rather than ignite the captain’s temper before anything could be said. His compliance had the desired effect; Pike relaxed in his chair, taking a sip from a can of beer. “I apologize for my behavior the past several days. As you know, humans are sensitive to long term stress. I took the day to collect myself. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Captain.”

There was a pause. Spock suspected Pike was waiting for him to offer apologies back, and when Spock said nothing, the smile Pike gave him became strained. “Well, it is fortunate that you were successful in your mission and that the entire thing was all a misunderstanding. I made sure to put in a commendation for you.”

“With all due respect, sir, it is unneeded. I was merely performing my duty.”

“Of course, Commander,” Pike leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “I heard one of your guards was severely injured during an unfortunate accident. I hope he’s doing well.”

“Yes, sir. He is performing his duties efficiently and shall be fully healed within the week.”

“Good, good,” the man nodded as if he was actually interested in Serik’s well being. “And I take it you’ve put a better leash on your new pet?”

Spock watched his captain carefully as he replied. “He has been remarkably well behaved since the incident.”

With a chuckle, Pike replied, “It puts you on edge doesn’t it. When he’s well behaved I mean.”

“If I may ask, Captain, how is it that you and Mr. Kirk are acquainted?”

“Oh, we go way back. I knew his parents. His father went to the academy with me. I even introduced his mother to a job when the empire was hunting her.” Pike’s eyes glinted with mischief at the confession. “I’ll warn you though, that kid is just like his father. Don’t trust him. He’d stab you in the back when you’d least expect it.”

“I am well aware. I have taken precautions against it. Was this all you summoned me for, sir?”

“Yeah, Spock, that is all.” The pleasantness did not sit well with Spock; Pike was anything but pleasant. Spock stood and excused himself, giving a salute before he left. Pike was trying to hide his treachery. It was expected, but he also didn’t think Pike had given up quite yet.

“Should I look into his activities, Commander?” Sovik said quietly once they entered the turbolift.

“Do so.” The doors closed.

* * *

 

“He’s in there right?”

“Saw him go in there myself. Are you calling me a liar?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The harsh whispers drifted down the corridor, echoing slightly due to the near emptiness of the floor.

It was pathetic really. The entire plan was poorly executed. The first night Jim came to stake out the targets, he was able to figure out exactly who was in on this little scheme. They were science officers. Obviously fighting was not their strong suit, but their espionage skills made the slave pity them. While only one person was watching the observation doors every night, Jim managed to follow that person to the others. There were four of them.

During the day, Jim managed to get the ship gossip about them. It was simple since he was Spock’s bodyguard. He could easily observe them whenever Spock went to the labs. For two days, Jim observed them. The quartet wasn’t high ranking even in their own department. Spock often called them out for their mistakes, and Spock tended to get agonizer happy whenever they made severe ones, whether it was within their control or not. Jim had discovered quickly that the Vulcan expected perfection and ruled over his domain with an iron fist. It was no surprise the people under him wanted to off him. It just seemed that most of the department was too scared to try.

The second night was the same thing; someone kept watch secretly over the observation doors while Jim watched from the shadows. The second day followed similarly to the first. The third night however, Spock exited off the turbolift and his guards stayed on the lift, the doors closing just as Spock disappeared into the room. As expected, the guy keeping watch ran to call the others.

When the spy disappeared, Jim lowered himself from the Jeffery tubes and quickly inspected the lock on the door, ensuring that it was locked. Scotty told him that the doors were pretty much sound proof. Spock wouldn’t be hearing anything from the inside nor would Jim be able to hear in.

Drawing his phaser, he set it to kill and drew the knife on his hip with his left.  As his targets emerged from a room down the hall, a malicious smile crossed his lips, and he pulled the trigger without a second thought.

* * *

 

The terminal in front of Spock powered off, leaving the Vulcan sitting in the darkness of the observation deck with just the distant stars to give him light. The residual anger he felt from the conversation manifested in the way he gripped the PADD, breaking the glass and cutting the pads of his fingers. Emerald blood dripped onto his lap, absorbing into the dark fabric of his uniform.

The pain seemed to focus his mind on maintaining his controls, but the underlying rage was still there. Carefully, he pulled out the small shards of glass to the best of his ability before putting his gloves back on. “Computer, run program nine five beta alpha sigma, last outgoing call.”

“Deleting all traces, Commander,” the computer responded.

Throwing the destroyed PADD in a receptacle on his way out, Spock let the observation deck. Normally he’d call Serik or Sovik to retrieve him, but he didn’t. The turbolift was only a few meters from the door and his guards would be waiting outside his quarters. The moment he stepped out onto deck 5, they would attend to him.

The door slid open with a soft whoosh, and to Spock’s surprise, his human guard was there, whirling around at the sound and with an expression of surprise of his own. Kirk tried to recover, adopting a look of nonchalance, acting like he was supposed to be there despite the time of night. Not that that could fool him. Spock had caught the specks of blood on his sleeve, and the split skin on his knuckles.  “What happened?” he demanded.

Kirk opened his mouth to say something. But as the silence continued to stretch, he gradually closed his mouth and crossed his arms with a look of defiance growing in his eyes. Spock wasn’t in the mood for misplaced stubbornness.  “Will you not speak?”

“You’re smart. You figure it out.”                                                                                          

Spock’s eyes narrowed. Jim glared back. “I believe I gave you a direct order to not engage in violent behavior against the crew.”

“And?”

“You violated that order.”

“So what if I did?” his said, his disdain clear.

Spock paused, analyzing the slave as he waited. In the second of silence, Spock waited to hear the rushed feeble excuses, the desperate attempt to gain forgiveness, the lies that would surely spout from the human’s mouth to save himself from the punishment that would come, but there was none. Kirk didn’t offer a single word. The bright blue eyes were hard, cold, waiting to accept the punishment. Resigned but not defeated.

Spock pulled off the agonizer from his belt.  “Acts of defiance do not go unpunished.”

Kirk’s eyes darted to the small device in Spock’s hands, then back to Spock. The Vulcan took a step closer, but Kirk held steady. Spock pressed the device over Kirk’s heart. Pain seized Kirk, spreading like lightning though his nervous system. A breathy scream escaped his lungs, his mind wiped blank from the sudden pain. And then it was gone.

Jim stumbled back, his legs about to give out if not for the wall he was up against. It was a struggle to keep himself from gasping for air, and it took a moment to gain his bearings and for his eyes to refocus on Spock.

 “I assume you know what an agonizer is,” Spock said, clipping the device back onto his belt. “It is the standard personalized punishment device every officer in Starfleet carries. It is designed to register a specific person’s biosignature and deal the most amount of pain with little side effects. It is suitable for delivering short and effective disciplinary measures. Dr. McCoy had yours finished within days of your arrival.”

Kirk tried to glare, but it was weak.

“This was a warning, Mr. Kirk. Do not defy me again.”

Spock got onto the turbo lift, watching Kirk nearly fall as he tried to stand up until the doors closed.

Jim listened to the doors close, silently cursing Spock as he braced himself against the wall to catch his breath. Something was wrong. He had seen Pike use the agonizer. The shortness of breath shouldn’t be affecting him still. Spock hadn’t even used it for the full duration, yet it felt like he was fighting to draw each breath. 

“Shit,” he panted. With all the will power he could muster, he dragged himself to the lift. “Deck . . . five.” The ride felt long though he knew in reality it was less than half a minute. Stepping out, he saw Sovik and Serik standing outside Spock’s quarters, watching his every move. Their blank faces didn’t tell him if they were aware of what had occurred, and Kirk didn’t stop to find out. He walked past them, holding his breath despite the dizziness it caused just to appear normal.

He didn’t remember the room being so far away, and while his breathing had calmed somewhat, his muscles were feeling shaky. He banged on the door, resting his head against the doorframe. The muffled curses from the other side had Kirk smiling a little.

The door opened and the smell of alcohol filled Jim’s nose. It almost had a calming effect on him. “Confound it, Jim. Do you have any idea what time it is?” McCoy slurred. Sleep was in the corner of the doctor’s stormy blue eyes, but the irritation in his voice was quite clear.

Jim flashed him a charming smile. “Not really?”

More alert, the doctor pulled him inside and guided him to the bed, having him sit down. “What happened?”

“Agonizer.”

A string of profanity left the doctor as he moved around the cabin. “I told that pointy-eared bastard that you needed time to recover. One fucking week. Can’t keep his sadistic behavior under control for one fucking week.”

Jim stayed quiet as McCoy fussed over him. He didn’t even complain when he was stuck with a hypo. “So what did you do to piss him off?”

Jim flexed his hand, glad that his strength was returning. “I wonder what,” Kirk whispered. “What exactly does he do in that room?” he asked louder.

“Who knows? Well… maybe Pike, but if the commander didn’t want anyone to know about it, he’d be better about keeping it a secret.” McCoy held up a tricorder. “Well you should be fine by morning. The hobgoblin apparently does have some restraint. He didn’t have it on full power.”

“Lucky me,” he responded dryly.

McCoy snorted. “Get some sleep, kid.” The doctor helped Jim lay down on the bed, complaining the entire time about being too old to babysit, but not one mention of Jim leaving. After a bit of fussing, the doctor proceeded to take his seat at the small table. One glass of bourbon later and McCoy was out like a light.

It wasn’t so easy for Kirk. Not with another person present, so he laid awake, thinking. If he was honest with himself, he hated thinking, but there was not much else to do as he waited to regain control of his own body.

He supposed he asked for this to happen when he refused Spock’s order. In truth, he had every intention to defend himself when Spock emerged. But then he saw Spock’s expression. His face was closed off, but those eyes of his were full of rage…and pain. He didn’t know how he knew, but when he saw it, he found himself shutting his mouth and provoking Spock to release that anger.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He knew why he did it. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Things weren’t the same as it was back then. And yet, he did something that stupid. He had to be a masochist.

Thoughts continued to swirl around in his head along with the memories. Memories slowly turned into dreams as he fell into an uneasy sleep, drifting between reality and fantasy, the two bleeding into one another until he could no longer distinguish the two, but he did recall one thing, unsure if it was a memory or a dream, Spock being on the other side of the mirror.

* * *

 

“Careful, Ensign Riley. Scratch her and I’ll have you thrown out the airlock,” even with the threat, Pike couldn’t hide the small smirk on his face. The scheming captain was actually in a good mood. With some investigating, Spock had discovered that the captain’s jovial mood was due to the rather large reward Pike was bestowed with for finding and executing the fictional traitor Spock had told him about. A gift from the empire. Spock of course received a small portion of the reward, but Pike took most of the credit.

While the reward wouldn’t cover the overall loss Pike suffered, it tempered his mood by a great degree. The hostility towards Spock had returned to a grudging tolerance.  The tension on the bridge had all but disappeared, and with the approaching shore leave at Starbase 6, everyone was becoming restless.

“Orbit successful, Captain,” Ensign Riley responded a moment later.

“Excellent. Mr. Spock, you can oversee the disembarking. I have some things to take care of.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Pike left the bridge with his guards, leaving Spock to take over his work again. Spock glanced at his own guards. Kirk, as usual, was getting restless as the shift neared its end. The restlessness the human projected often irritated Sovik. Serik was better at blocking it out, but Spock could occasionally feel his irritation through the bond if the human was exceptionally annoying.

Since the altercation in the hallway nearly a week ago, Kirk had been purposely getting on Spock’s nerves: taking longer to answer summons, making comments under his breath, being unnecessarily difficult. Spock had sent him to the agony booth when he discovered that Kirk had cost him four valuable lab assistants that were in charge of a crucial project. He questioned Kirk about it, but the human still refused to talk, leaving Spock no choice but to punish him. The problem was Kirk deserved more punishments for his behavior. Anyone else, Spock would have. However, there were two things that stopped him.

Something was off about Kirk’s behavior. He realized that the day after McCoy gave him an earful about minding Kirk’s health. Kirk hadn’t tried anything since coming aboard the _Enterprise_. He was disrespectful, but he never outright disobeyed after the first incident of him being late to training. Even with his rebellious behavior, he stayed within tolerable limits. He could not think of a reason why he would attack crewmembers. His life didn’t seem to be in danger. There wasn’t a scratch on Kirk. Even if they picked a fight with Kirk, there was no reason to kill them if they were subdued with such ease. Kirk actively tried to keep a low profile. Killing several officers wouldn’t serve that purpose.

The second reason was the main reason he hadn’t sent Kirk back to the booth. While Kirk was in the booth, Pike would come down to watch. The eyes Pike had as he watched Kirk writhe made Spock uncomfortable. They were too gleeful and showed too much sadistic pleasure as they took in each moment. When the thought crossed his mind to send Kirk back to the booth, he dismissed it nearly as quickly.

“Hey when are you going to finish? We’re the last ones here.” Kirk’s complaint brought Spock out of his thoughts, noting that everyone had indeed been replaced by the skeleton crew if the reports were accurate. The comment did gain a disapproving glance from Serik.

Spock as usual ignored them and took the lead. Serik and Kirk followed. Sovik joined them in the transporter room. “Okay lads, you’re the last ones down,” Scotty said behind the transporter controls. “Hurry up, now. I have a date with a nacelle. If my hands aren’t elbow deep in engine grease in ten minutes, someone might find the life support systems malfunctioning in their quarters.”

Kirk laughed. “Easy Scotty. I’m sure the _Enterprise_ won’t be able to function without you if you get fired.”

A grin spread on the engineer’s face. “I swear lad, you are the only one on this ship who understands me. Hey, Commander, think I can buy him off ya?”

“He’s not for sale,” Spock replied immediately, stepping up onto the pad.

“Shame. Sorry, Jimmy. I tried.”

“Thanks, Scotty,” Jim bit his lip, trying to stifle his laughter. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Scotty waved before activating the transporter.

Starbase 6 was luxurious. After being destroyed by Nero, it was rebuilt and finished only a month ago with the latest technological advances. It was a prototype for the new space colony the empire planned to finish building in another five years called Yorktown. The _Enterprise_ was the first constitution class vessel to come to the base since its reconstruction, and there was a welcome party waiting to greet them.

“Commander Spock, we have been expecting you,” a human male, rather plump and short in stature, stepped forward.  “Captain Pike is already being given the tour. I’m sure you would like to join him, yes?” the man extended his hand.

Spock eyed the man’s clothes before extending his hand s well. “Governor Vocelli. I was informed I would be meeting with you at tonight’s banquet.”

“Yes, well, I was just eager to meet the hero of the Empire. The lab boys won’t stop talking about you. Personally, I don’t understand much about science. I find it a waste of time, but I reconsidered after I heard about you. I made sure the finest lab was installed. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to show it to you.”

“Give me a moment to speak to my guards, and I will join you.”

“Of course, of course, take your time,” the man laughed a little too long, backing away to the door. “We’ll be just over there.”

Spock waited for them to gain a bit of distance before turning to Kirk. “The banquet is at 2000. I expect you to attend to me by 1950.” At the confused look the guard was giving him, he clarified. “You may do what you wish until then as long as you follow the primary rules I have given you. How you spend your time is up to you.”

Kirk looked surprised at first, then skeptical.  “Why?”

Spock returned the skepticism with his own blank look. “I can change my mind if you prefer.”

Kirk didn’t waste any time. He didn’t know why Spock was giving him an out, but he was going to take it. He felt the Vulcan’s eyes on his back as he quickly left. Honestly, he was glad to get some space between them. Another hour and he might have done something rash.

He was still wearing his uniform so he gained attention from the Starbase occupants, yet their curious stared didn’t deter him. With each step, he grew more and more excited. No one on this base knew who he was. He didn’t have to worry as much. And he knew that this place had what he wanted most. Spock may not have given him much of an allowance, but it was something.  If there was even the slightest possibility to buy it, he would take it.

Stopping only to ask for directions, Kirk managed to find his way into the shopping district of the Starbase. It was amazing to say the least. The ceiling simulated a blue sky, greenery was prospering in the center as the sidewalks curved around it. People wandered about, going from shop to shop, a few even stopping to just lie in the grass. If Kirk didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was outside. The confining feel that one normally felt on a starbase or starship was gone. 

It was wonderful… and bitter. His mood soured, and he picked up the pace to his destination.  The store was small, but he expected it to be. The items were rare after all, but glancing at the cost, he knew they were something he could never afford.  He had just hoped…

Feeling frustrated and dejected, he left the store. This place really wasn’t for his kind. Walking through the trees and plant, seeing the people around him loiter at their leisure without a care in the world, it annoyed him.

“Bittersweet, isn’t it?”

The voice made Kirk freeze, poised for attack. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Relax, Kirk, I’m not here to attack you. Just thinking along the same lines as you.” Jim turned his head slightly to catch a glance at the person who had sat next to him on the garden wall. He was Asian, his hair short and somewhat spiked as he had just ran his hands through his hair and it stayed that way. He had a cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips, but it was unlit. Something about him was familiar though, as if Jim had met him before. “I was just thinking this place makes me sick.”

“It’s peaceful here,” he replied, watching a happy couple walk by.

“Yeah,” the Asian lit his cigarette. “Pisses you off doesn’t it.”

Slowly, Kirk nodded. “I take it you’re not from Japan.”

“I am,” the man confirmed. “But the same rule applies there as it does here.” He took a long drag. “My father lost everything when I was ten. Before then, I was like those people. Clueless.”

“At least you knew that life. I didn’t.” The Asian offered his cigarette to him. Kirk took it and inhaled deeply and exhaled just as slowly, passing the fag back to him.

“True. I was lucky Starfleet let me in.”

Jim watched the man beside him. “Ambition can get you far, so I have to ask, what is it you want from me is.”

The man chuckled. “I won’t lie and say that I don’t want anything. People like us know better. Let’s just say, I want an ally.”

“For what?”  A woman with a child passed them and both watched with dark expressions. Jim was the first to look away.

“I don’t like Pike.”

Jim snorted. “From what I see, no one likes him.”

“But not as much as you.”

Jim’s lips twitched. “I see. What’s your name again?”

“Sulu. Hikaru, Sulu.”

“Nihongo wo hanaseru?”

Sulu’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hai.”

“Gomen. Baka ja nai." Kirk smirked. "Shinpai suru?”

Sulu was quiet for a minute. Hostility was barely suppressed in the tension of his body. “Wakatta.Yuruse. Demo, shinpai shinai. Temee wa?”

“Iie. Daijoubu,” Jim smirk turned into a smile.  “Ouji-sama .”

Sulu’s eyes narrowed and it looked like he was about to strike. Somehow, he didn’t, instead taking another drag. “Low, don’t you think.”

“You’re trying to use me. I don’t think there is a low in that case.”

“Touché.” The anger wasn’t quite gone, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to start a fight either.  Sulu flicked the cigarette onto the sidewalk.  “Well I won’t force you to become allies. I just thought we could give each other a leg up.”  Hopping off the wall, the man shoved his hands into his pockets. “Tokorode, ore wa atarashii saikou Security Officer  da.” Sulu shot him a dark glare. “Sore wo oboete.” With his parting warning, he grinned. “Ja ne,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

Jim watched him disappear into the crowd.  A possible ally or a serious threat. He hadn’t decided, but the way Sulu reacted to the name told him a lot. Sulu didn’t consider himself one of the privileged, and in essence, he was right. He knew exactly what Kirk was thinking when he approached, but the people who were once at the bottom had the most ambition and were often the most crafty.

The artificial breeze ruffled his hair, and he sighed dramatically. “I should have kept the cigarette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was thinking of turning one of my fanfics into an original story. Thing is, I don't think I'm a good enough writer to warrant changing people for it, especially since I've always given my stories for free. I also don't have money for professional editors and stuff. So I was thinking, maybe I could have a free download, and people can donate the amount they think its worth. Why am I doing this? Because I feel bad that my parents are struggling to pay for my education and I was laid off from my job. The only skill I'm decent at is writing, so I thought maybe.... Anyway this is assuming I can figure out how to make a webpage, and I still need someone to make a cover, plus I'm not sure anyone would want to read it since Twilight vampires and all. I actually posted the first chapter on fiction press, but apparently with just the one chapter, it appears as a anime rip off since there's no context with why characters are acting the way they do and the surroundings seeming so integrated for a place in Japan.
> 
> Comment and Kudos minions.
> 
> Japanese Translations:
> 
> Nihongo wo shitte iru: You know Japanese?  
> Hai: yeah  
> Gomen. Baka ja nai. Shinpai: Sorry, I'm not an idiot. Worried?  
> Wakatta. Gomen nasai. Demo, shinpai shite inai. Temee wa?: Alright. I'm sorry. But I'm not worried. You? (Temee is a very rude way of saying you. Equivalent to calling someone a bastard)  
> Iie. Daijoubu: No. I'm fine.  
> Ouji-sama: (a way to refer to someone(young male) from a high class family)  
> Tokorode, ore wa atarashii saikou Security Officer da: By the way, I'm the new Chief Security Officer.  
> Oboete: Remember that
> 
> Note: I used Japanese to insinuate something about the mirrorverse and how it came to be. From the scene Kirk infers that Japan is usually a nice place to live and that Japan is a superpower on Earth. I changed one the outcome of one major event in our past that eventually brought forth the empire. Can you figure it out?


	8. The Illusion of Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advanced for any mistakes. All self edited.

The empire was highly fond of parties. Parties showed confidence, wealth, and power. Even the poorest aristocrat or the most vulnerable politician would throw lavish parties to feign what they lack. Therefore, parties were held over the most inconsequential thing. In this case, it was over the honor of having the Empire’s flagship visiting the new installation.

Spock thought it was archaic and a large waste of resources. It was similar to the feudal eras of many civilizations. Vulcan did not have such traditions. There was no need, no logic for the waste, but for the past 25 years, logic played little in the events of things.

The governor was not shy about talking about his Starbase and how important it was compared to the others in the quadrant. He had been speaking about it during the tour and resumed the moment he spotted Spock standing on the sidelines at the party. It was inevitable. Humans, as well as many other species, loved to talk.

It took 0.49 seconds to realize that the governor had stopped speaking and was staring at something over his shoulder. Spock wondered if the governor had noticed the person who had been observing him since the beginning of the party. While Spock was unable to search the room due to the governor’s interference, Sovik and Serik had noticed and had their attention split between the observer and the rest of the party.

Kirk he could not say for certain whether or not he had noticed. The human had been rather distracted, for lack of a better word. It took massive control not to overhear the overly flirtatious comments and innuendos leaving the human’s mouth at every female who walked by. Giving the setting, it was impossible to punish him without drawing additional attention, and Serik couldn’t do it in his place without leaving him vulnerable with a possible threat nearby. Spock was 89.3 percent sure that Kirk was aware of the dilemma and was taking full advantage of it in attempt to aggravate him.

“Well Commander, I’ll let you enjoy the evening,” the governor said with a suggestive smile.  “I apologize for taking so much of your time.”

Spock’s eyebrow quirked in surprise. He had been trying to politely excuse himself for the past hour. Spock met his gaze with Sovik’s who gestured to the observer with his eyes. Spock turned to see Lieutenant Uhura, standing with a wine glass in an elegant floor length, white gown. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and wore dangling, silver earrings and a thick gold necklace around her neck.

She smiled and sauntered her way up to him. Sovik took a step forward to intercept her, but Spock signaled him to standby.

“A lovely party, isn’t it Commander?”

“The governor has indeed gone through great lengths in organizing this event,” he conceded.

She smiled and extended the glass towards him. “An apology for the other day.”

Spock eyed the glass then proceeded to place his hands behind his back. “I do not consume alcoholic beverages as they have little effect on my per-“

“It’s Vulcan port,” she interrupted, causing Spock to stop mid sentence. “Year 2165. Completely authentic.”

Spock became silent, eying the glass again. “Shall we have a seat, Lieutenant?”

“I would love nothing more, Commander.”

The room was filled with lush couches and loveseats in alcoves and drapes that could be drawn to give people privacy. Several were currently in use. Spock directed her to one of the alcoves but did not close the curtains.  He took a seat on the couch where she sat beside him.  Spock tensed when he felt her press against him and offered her glass.

“Would you like to try it?”

“It would be discourteous if I did not allow you to have the first drink,” he responded.

The lieutenant gave a flirtatious smile and brought the glass to her lips taking a long slow sip. “As you can see, I didn’t poison it.”

“I would be considered a fool if I didn’t suspect it. Especially given the incident last week.” Spock took the glass, inspecting the liquid, searching for particles that may have accumulated at the bottom or floating in the light, yellow-green wine.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you. That was a misunderstanding.”

“I have noted that humans have used the word misunderstanding to lie their way out of difficult situations.” Making sure to turn the glass so that he wouldn’t drink from where her lips touched, he took a small sip of the port.  It was light yet very bitter on his tongue from the age, but the underlying sweetness from long extinct Vulcan fruits made him take another sip. “This is of a very high quality.”

“I hear that it was a great year. I thought maybe you would find it nostalgic.”

“I have never sampled it before. I was too young to indulge, and to seek out such an expensive and rare item is illogical.” He handed the glass back to her. “Humans either find it too bitter or too bland to enjoy it. It is bought for status.”

“I know. That’s why when I received it for a gift, I thought only you could truly enjoy it.” She leaned closer while he leaned away.

“I accept your apology. Was that all you wanted from me?”

Her bottom lip protruded in a small pout and finally sat normally. Her dark eyes scanned over the crowd, landing on one particular individual. “Why did you choose him?”

Spock looked at Kirk who had caught Uhura’s interest. The guard was nearby, but not as close as he should have been; too busy chatting up a serving girl getting a laugh from her. His blue eyes twinkled as the girl covered her mouth to stop her laughter before she got in trouble.  He made some grand gesture and said something Spock could not hear, gaining another restrained laugh from the girl.

“He seemed the least troublesome option at the time,” he replied honestly.

She laughed. “You’re probably the only one who would think that after seeing him. He looks like a trouble maker.”

Spock didn’t disagree. A part of him had known that as well before he had stated he wanted him to work under him.

“He does seem to know how to treat a girl,” she said almost wistfully.  She traced the rim of the glass. “Want the rest of it?”

“I must decline.”

“Of course you do,” she muttered under her breath though Spock heard it clearly. She took a slow, deep breath, and said, “Commander─”

**_Red Alert! Red Alert! All personnel head to battle stations!_ **

The parcipants of the party were startled by the announcement. During the brief pause before the announcement registered to everyone, Spock was already moving to the exit.  To his surprise, when he readied to call Kirk over to him, Kirk was already there, moving in synch with Serik and Sovik behind him.

“Transporter technicians are ready to transport, Commander,” Sovik said, clipping his communicator onto his belt. “Captain Pike has already transported aboard.”

“Very well. Serik remain here.”

“Yes sir,” Serik broke off into another corridor as they entered the transporter room.

Kirk stepped up onto the platform, almost losing his step as the station shook violently.

“Energizing,” the technician yelled over the alarm.

Once on the ship, Spock walked swiftly to the bridge. “You’re late, Commander,” Pike said from the captain’s seat.

If there was one positive thing Spock could say about Pike, it was how fast he managed to get into the captain’s seat in a crisis. “May I inquire about the situation?”

“Rebels.”

At the answer, Spock relieved a lieutenant from the science station. “10 ships are registered on the scanner.  5 are combat cruisers, raider class, 3 light cruisers, intrepid class, and 2 … 2 Klingon D5-battle cruisers.”

“Where the hell did they get that kind of fire power?” He cursed. “Tell me what’s going on Lieutenant Sulu.”

“Three ships are docked. It will take time to launch them. Station defenses are engaged, but rebels have managed to already damage half. Minus the Enterprise, there is only one other Starfleet ship.”

“Right, Lieutenant Uhura, message Starfleet, ask for backup.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded.

“Alright, shields up. Let’s make these rebels regret going against the Terran Empire. Fire photon torpedoes at the Klingon cruisers.  Let’s get their attention and draw them away from the others.”

“Firing photon torpedoes, keptin,” a young Russian chimed.

“First torpedo has made contact with a Klingon cruiser. Second torpedo has missed its target. Both Klingon cruisers and two raiders have changed direction and are locked on to us.” Spock intoned.

“We’ve faced worse,” Pike waved him off.

“With all due respect, Captain, Klingon battle cruisers are on par with Constitution class vessels, and the raiders, while their weapons may be weak, can out maneuver the _Enterpri_ _─_ _”_

“If these were soldiers, then you’d be right Mr. Spock,” Pike didn’t even looked bothered when the _Enterprise_ shook from a photon blast from one of the raiders. “But these are rebels. Nothing but scum under the empire’s boot.”

“…Yes, sir. Klingon cruiser approaching from the starboard side. They will be in range to fire in three point two seconds.”

“Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Sulu. Mr. Checkov, aim for the closest raider class vessel. Let’s get the small ones out of the way. However, make avoiding Klingon fire the first priority.”

“Yes sir,” the navigator and pilot chimed together.

“Spock, how long until the other ships, launch.”

“10 minutes, Captain. The engines will be starting off cold. Base security is holding, but fallen to 40 percent. Another two minutes and the rebels will break through.”

The ship shook from impact.

“Shields at 78 percent,” an ensign shouted relayed.

“Raider vessel A destroyed. Klingon ships are trying to maneuver on either side of us,” another reported.

Kirk watched the view screen with rapped attention, taking in everything from the way Pike sat calmly in his captain’s seat to the way everyone relayed updates about the battle. He frowned, currently watching the view screen.

The frown drew Spock’s attention, recognizing the look from Sigma Iotia IV. The ship shook again, this time more violently.  “Captain, the Kingon ships─”

“I know,” he snapped.

Spock’s lips thinned and added nothing else, looking back at the scanners.

“Klingon cruiser A’s life support has been destroyed,” an ensign informed.

Spock glanced up at the view screen, catching the calculating expression on Kirk’s face in the corner of his eye. He turned more fully to get a better look. “Too reckless,” the human muttered.

“What did you say?”

Kirk looked at Spock then back at the view screen. “It’s nothing.”

“Repeat what you said,” Spock ordered just before the ship shook again knocking Kirk off balance and into Spock. Spock caught him as he fell against the science console the edge digging painfully into his back. He inhaled sharply at the pain.

Kirk had barely met Spock’s gaze before he was pulled away by Sovik.

“Shields at 57 percent. Last Raider ship destroyed,” someone yelled.

Spock straightened himself, “What is it you said before,” he asked again.

Blue eyes darted to the turbolift. “Trust me?” he asked looking away and uncertain, it was quiet and difficult to hear over the commotion on the bridge.

Spock paused at the sudden hesitance, something so unlike the human he had come to know.  

“For now,” he replied.

Kirk nodded and grabbed his hand, missing how Sovik and Spock simultaneous tensed. Kirk dragged him to the turbolift, barely giving Spock time to command a lieutenant to take his place at the science station.  Soon the noise of the alarm and bridge was blocked out with the closing of the doors. “Transporter room,” he told the lift.

“Answer the Commander’s question,” Sovik stepped forward, hand on his phaser and voice so cold and emotionless; there was a brief flash of fear in Kirk which was quickly pushed back and replaced with anger.

 “The rebels are planning something,” the human finally said. “And I think it has something to do with the starbase.”

“How did you reach this conclusion?”

“When we went to the debriefing before we arrived at the starbase, Pike went over the defenses of the base. Most of the defenses are guns that satellite the base, meaning once they destroy a section of the defenses, it takes time to reposition the larger weapons creating a temporary hole in their defenses. A gap of five seconds is a long time and a small ship like those Raiders that were just destroyed could easily get inside. Instead, they’ve been focusing on destroying all the security around the base rather than attacking it head on, and I think there are two reasons for that. The first is to buy time, and the second is to hide the fact the weapons on the station have been disabled.”

“That did not answer how you have come to this conclusion.”

“They’re too reckless. They don’t get anything out of attacking so aggressively and yet choosing not to make any progress.”

“They are rebels. They have no strategic training or discipline. Furthermore, they have nothing to lose.”

“Exactly. They have nothing to lose, so why are they wasting time destroying the weapons around the station when they have a chance to attack directly. They would be impatient, looking for a chance to get one over the empire. They’d be eager to attack and cause major damage rather than waste their time attacking unmanned weapons. And they have enough connections to get two Klingon starships and enough skills and knowledge to pilot them. They appear reckless, but their actions aren’t making sense. The only reason I can think of is that there is something they want on the Starbase.”

The door opened to the correct deck, and Kirk walked out with purpose. Spock started to follow until a firm hand grabbed his arm. “Commander, Captain Pike…”

“Is a competent captain when he is on the battlefield and will not listen to what amounts to as possible theories.”

Sovik’s eyes flickered to Kirk and back. “His logic is indeed sound but have you considered that Kirk may be part of the rebels as well?”

“I have,” Spock said. “But I have found the probability low.”

Spock tried to walk out of the turbolift, but Sovik didn’t release his grip.  “Nu’ri trensu….please.”

Spock pulled away, and Sovik didn’t try to stop him a second time. “Serik is feeding information from the station. Let him know, we will be transporting back over, and stay here to keep me informed.” He didn’t wait for protest or even a response and Sovik didn’t try as his master followed the human into the transporter room.

“Ensign, transport us to Starbase 6,” Spock commanded.

“I would sir, but the shields─”

“Will be down for a brief moment to allow us transfer.” Both the ensign and Kirk gave him an uncertain look, but he knew Sovik would make it possible at the right time.  Soon enough, shock showed on the ensign’s face and hurried to transfer them before the ship took any damage.

No one was there to greet them when they transferred this time. Spock pulled out his phaser and Kirk hurried to do the same. Unlike Spock’s phaser, Kirk’s was locked on stun. “So what now?” Kirk asked, looking at Spock expectantly.

Spock lifted an eyebrow condescendingly. “I believe you are the one who asked me to accompany you.”

Red stained the human’s cheeks. “I didn’t say shit.”

“On the contrary, you grabbed my hand and guided me to the turbolift, then proceeded to guide me to the transporter. Therefore, you were heavily implying that I should follow you.”

The human’s face turned a darker red, too proud to admit that he had been caught up in the moment. Spock had predicted it was the case; however, he was more interested in the current development. How did the tension between them that had been present throughout the week, vanish and be replaced with a workable partnership. Related goals perhaps. Kirk didn’t wish to die just as Spock did not wish to allow Starbase 6 to be destroyed; and yet, that reason did not feel quite right either.

“Fortunately, I have a hypothesis on the possible target.”

“Of course you do,” he muttered under his breath, clearly irritated.

Spock decided to ignore the human’s illogical mutterings. He led the way, dodging scrambling officers trying to get to their posts.  As they neared the scientific department, the amount of people drastically decreased.  “What’s here?”  Kirk whispered, sounding as tense as Spock felt. There were too little people here.

“The governor has installed the best scientific facility available off planet on this base. It is currently heading most of the top secret scientific experiments and weapon development this sector of the quadrant. I can think of at least one the rebels would be interested in that is nearing its completion.”

Kirk smirked. “Are you sure you should be telling me so much?”

“You would have accompanied me to the labs tomorrow morning if it were not for this attack.” Spock stopped and peered around the corner.  “There should be guards this far into the science department. This area is off limits without clearance.”

“Well let’s go stop them.” Kirk was the first to round the corner, sweeping the area before going to the control panel. “Do you have security clearance?”

“I am a guest. My pass is revoked during security threats.”

“Right.” Kirk held out his hand. “Let me borrow your phaser.”

Spock stared at his hand for a long moment then carefully took Kirk’s phaser first, having it trained on him before tossing his own phaser to Kirk. The human just rolled his eyes at Spock’s cautious behavior and ramped up the power of Spock’s phaser, training it on the station wall, searing through the metal beside the panel.

“Serik informs me that the rebels have destroyed 89 percent of the surrounding defenses and the _Enterprise_ has destroyed one of the Klingon cruisers.”

“I don’t know what pisses me off more, the fact Chris is a useful asshat or the fact I’m helping him save this damn place,” he pried off the metal using the tip of his knife, revealing the wires underneath.

Another few seconds later, the doors opened, revealing the bodies of multiple guards inside.

“I see that Engineer Scott has shown you how to get passed security protocols,” Spock said dryly, stepping over the bodies without so much as a glance.

“Nah, it’s something I picked up over my lifetime.” Kirk retrieved his phaser from Spock and vice versa. “We don’t have much time.”

“Indeed.  The device they seek should be─”

“Get down!” Kirk shouted throwing his body against Spock, shoving both of them into another corridor just as an explosion went off. Kirk moved sluggishly as he tried to regain his bearings. The force of the blast had his head swimming and ears ringing, but he reached for his phaser even though he lacked coordination. Spock, who had been thrown onto his back, was already sitting up, firing back at the people who had come to check the commotion, killing two with deadly accuracy.

The station rocked, and Kirk almost fell back down, until Spock grabbed his arm. “We must keep moving. The _Enterprise_ will defeat the rebels, but not before preventing damage to the starbase.”

“I’m moving the best I can.” The reply was a little too loud, but Spock nodded. He turned his head, revealing the dark green blood trailing down his temple.

“This way.” Spock released his arm and headed down the corridor.

There were quite a few corpses, all with phaser wounds, but there were few attackers. Besides that initial attack, there had been only 4 more people, making it easier to go deeper into the lab area. The duo didn’t speak the entire way, only making vague gestures when checking corridors and labs before proceeding. They had reached the deepest portion of the secured area when they saw two men transporting a large round device approximately two feet in diameter and three guards around them.

Spock and Kirk looked at each other and understood each other’s plan. Kirk quickly crossed the hall during the brief moment the enemy was distracted, keeping low to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, both simultaneous stepped out to shoot the guards, Kirk on the right and Spock on the left.  Two of the guards went down and the third injured. Two men who were transporting dropped the device to draw their guns, but were taken out just as fast.

As a precaution they both checked the labs surrounding the area before inspecting the bodies. Sure enough hidden on their bodies under the Starfleet uniforms was the rebel crest. Kirk wasn’t so interested in finding out who they were as what they had on them, pocketing the credits they carried and pulling out a small device shaped like a tricorder.

“Hey what’s this?” he asked Spock, handing the device over.

Spock took it, noticing the information scrolling across the screen. Eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise, he hurriedly went into one of the labs and connected the device to the computer. “What is it?” Kirk asked again, standing just behind his shoulder looking at the screen with confusion.

“Obviously, it is data transmitting straight from the rebel starships. I am currently having the entire database from the Klingon cruiser transmitted to the Starfleet database. However, this will only be possible as long as they are within range.” Spock went silent for a moment, adjusting a small almost invisible earpiece. “Serik says they are starting to retreat. They must know they have failed.”

“No doubt,” Jim, responded slowly.  “You’re bleeding.”

A quick glance down to his torso, Spock noticed the burnt uniform and the green blood dripping down his left side. “It is shallow.” There wasn’t even a pause in Spock’s typing.

Jim left Spock to whatever he was doing, going back to where the dead bodies were. He felt dissatisfied. The ease at which he and Spock had handled the situation was unfulfilling. Squatting beside the bodies, he checked their pockets once again, just for something to do. Perhaps the arena had affected him more than he had realized. The weak die. The strong remain. It was the fundamentals of nature. The foundation of the empire. Yet what was strength? Was it material wealth? Political power? Muscles? 25 years and he was still searching for the answer. In the arena at least, he found some sort of entertainment in his dull meaningless life and could pretend to challenge everything the empire stood for. Now, separated from it, he felt something missing. It made him restless.

A hand touched his shoulder that had him jump, only to mumble profanity when he discovered it was just Spock.  “What is in your hand?”

“Huh?” In his hand, he held a sheet of paper he had taken from one of the bodies. Staring at it for a brief second, he handed it over to Spock.

The paper only contained a name, written in the barely legible letters. “Fascinating. This could prove useful.”

“If you say so,” the tired tone in the human’s voice drew Spock’s attention. Realizing this, Jim put on a suave smile. “Don’t stare too long; I might think you’re coming on to me.”

A small huff escaped Spock. “As if I would find an illogical, disorderly human appealing.”

The comment was meant to be dismissing, but a genuine smile crossed those pink lips and the blue eyes softened just a tad, revealing sadness in their depths. “You’re absolutely right. Guess you’re smarter than you look after all.”

There was no time to question the peculiar look as Serik began relaying information to him over the ear piece. **_“The rebels have successfully retreated, Commander. There were alerts for gunfire in the restricted section of the science labs as well.”_**

“I am well aware. The rebels attempted to extract a piece of technology. The attempt was foiled; however, there is quite a mess.”

 ** _“Understood. The governor is flustered and is already formulating an apology. I will have a full report for you the moment you return to the_** **Enterprise _. Furthermore, Sovik has informed me that Captain Pike is searching for you. He is unhappy that you had left the_ Enterprise _without permission and had left behind your communicator as well.”_** Judging by Serik’s precise delivery, he was not approving either, Spock thought. **_“He is trying to imply that you and Mr. Kirk were helping the rebels.”_**

“Replaying the corridor footage will provide sufficient evidence of our innocence. In addition, I discovered information that will make the captain very agreeable.  I have already sent the information under the captain’s name.  He should receive quite a reward.”

**_“If you insist, Commander. I take it you are uninjured?”_ **

“Minor contusions and lacerations. Nothing that is cause for concern.”

 ** _“Of course.”_**   The line went dead.

“I guess it’s time for us to get back,” Kirk said, putting his phaser back in its holster.  “I’m sure Chris is waiting to roast us alive.”

“Returning will be the wisest course of action. I am not eager to hear the governor’s groveling.”

A light laugh came from the human. “The guy’s kind of clueless. You were so annoyed during the banquet, I was betting when you’d shoot him.”

Spock back straightened a little more. “Vulcan’s do not get annoyed.”

“Sure they don’t,” he teased.

Kirk continued poking fun at Spock all the way back to the transporter. Sure enough the governor was there; ready to intercept them to show gratitude and apologies. Thankfully, Serik inserted himself before the governor could start, letting Spock and Jim transport back to the ship with minimal interruptions.  McCoy, however, was waiting for them with his arms crossed. “You,” he said with a growl, pointing at Spock. “You. Medbay. Now.”

Sovik of course was standing beside McCoy, staring Spock down with a blank stare. The young Vulcan exhaled heavily. Serik must have informed Sovik about his injuries.

“I will report to sickbay in a moment.”

“Oh no you don’t. A moment for you is two days after all the paperwork is done and your injuries get infected. I will not have those two breathing down my neck because you want to be stubborn.”

Spock stared at the doctor. “You are very confident in yourself to speak to me in such a manner, doctor.”

“Glare at me all you want. You’re going to medbay.”

“Commander, I am willing to give you the report during your examination.” Serik offered, stepping off the transporter pad.

Clearly outnumbered, Spock resigned. “Very well. Tell Captain Pike─”

“Tell Captain Pike what?” Every occupant in the room turned to salute the captain minus Kirk who rolled his eyes. “You’ve really crossed the line Spock.”

“Sir, I am aware,” Spock placed his hands behind his back.

“You’ve always looked down on me, haven’t you Spock, but this betrayal won’t be overlooked. “ Pike stormed up to Spock.

“Yes, sir.”

Spock’s compliant behavior was getting to Pike as the older man’s face contorted with frustration. “Do you think this is funny, Commander?”

“Not at all, Captain. I take regulations quite seriously.”

They could see Pike grinding his teeth. “I don’t think you’ve been in the agony booth before. Two full durations should suffice.”

“If that is your decision, Captain.”

Pike opened his mouth to retort, fury taking over his features when an apparently suicidal ensign came rushing in, giving a hasty salute. “Urgent news, Captain.”

“This better be good, Ensign, or you’ll be joining the Commander in the booth.”

“It is, sir. Hades is coming.”

Jim didn’t think it was possible for anyone to go pale so fast. The color drained from the captain’s skin until he was a pasty white. His mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before muttering excuses and leaving with the ensign. Even McCoy seemed to be turning a bit pale.

“Who’s Hades?” Kirk’s question broke the silence in the room, but intensified the tension.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Spock responded. “Shall we head to medbay, Doctor?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Distracted, McCoy ushered Spock out of the transporter room to sickbay with Spock’s bodyguards flanking both sides.

Kirk was curious though. What type of man inspired so much fear with just his name? He was eager to find out.

* * *

“The bodies of the rebels you killed were indeed stationed on the starbase, each having a significant role in each department. Furthermore, the station defenses were indeed compromised. The other two starships stationed were sabotaged to delay their launches. There were 39 casualties,” Serik reported.

“Out of the ten ships, four survived the encounter. The two Klingon cruisers self destructed once defeat was certain,” Sorik continued, flawlessly picking up where the other left off. “The station has sent scouts to search the wreckage for any surviving information. The _Enterprise_ suffered minor damages. There was no hull breach; however, the targeting system has suffered damages. There were also 10 casualties in engineering from a panel short circuiting. The short circuit ignited a flammable coolant that had been leaking from a damaged radiator during the battle. Damages were contained. Mr. Scott approximates 13 hours for repairs.”

“You know it’s creepy when you two give reports like that.” McCoy lifted the dermal regenerator from Spock’s side. “It’s like only one person is talking the entire time. It ain’t natural.”

“Illogical,” they responded together.

“Freaks.” McCoy muttered, wiping the blood off Spock’s head before healing the cut as well. “Alright Spock. Don’t do any strenuous activity. That phaser wound was a little too close to your heart. The wound is closed, but it can rip right back open.”

“I don’t need your warnings, Doctor.” Spock was already putting on his black undershirt.

“Fine.” The doctor threw his hands up in frustration. “Bleed out for all I care. Why the hell should I care? I got experiments to run anyway.”

“There is one other report, Commander, before you leave,” Serik stepped forward. Spock glanced at Sovik, who seemed displeased. “It is about Mr. Kirk.”

“What about Mr. Kirk?”

“You asked for information about why Kirk would kill the four lab technicians. After further investigation, it was discovered that the four science officers were planning an assassination attempt on you. It is concerning that our information network did not detect this. Mr. Kirk intercepted the attack. It appears that Mr. Kirk was attempting to keep the matter quiet and was waiting until they were without a doubt guilty.”

“In order to obey the rules I set for him,” Spock finished. “Why did he not just inform me?”

A long drawn out groan escaped the doctor, glaring at the three Vulcans as if they were the bane of his existence. “Can I speak to you, without Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee hovering?”

“Tweedle Dum?”

“Tweedle Dee?”

The twins asked. The doctor sent Spock a look that screamed 'you see'.

“Wait outside,” Spock ordered.

Both twins saluted and did as they were commanded. “Still freaky,” the doctor murmured, earning Spock’s disapproving stare. “What?”

“If you are going to continue wasting my time with insults about my operatives, I will be taking my leave.”

“Sit down and wait. Despite common sense, I’m trying to tell you something to make your life easier.”

The look on the Vulcan’s face clearly said he doubted it. McCoy really didn’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit that came with being the chief medical officer, especially working with dimwitted commanders with no people skills. He pulled up a chair to sit down in, so they were more at eye level. “Jim’s human, Spock. Very human.”

“I am well aware of that doctor.”

“I don’t think you do,” he sighed. “Look Spock, that kid’s been through a lot. He’s had a shit life. He’s defensive and will fight nail and teeth if he feels any resistance. He’s had to to survive.”

The Vulcan’s eyebrows pulled together slightly in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“I’m saying, you dimwitted hobgoblin, that if you want to get along with Jim, try honey instead of vinegar. Be nice to him. Extend an olive branch. The kid’s shy, but he’ll…reach out.” The doctor’s eyes softened and a sad but affectionate tone seeped in. “He can’t help himself.”

“’Honey instead of vinegar’ is a curious metaphor,” he tilted his head a bit. “And what type ‘honey’ do you think would make him more compliant.”

The doctor growled. “How the hell should I know? I met him the same time you did.”

“I see. I will take your advice under consideration. “

McCoy continued to ramble additional warnings about his health, and Spock listened with half an ear. To accommodate someone else, a slave, was something he never thought he would, or should, do, much less a human, but even Spock could not argue the fact that Kirk was friends with two of the most argumentative, stubborn, and antisocial humans on the ship which had to mean that Doctor McCoy had an inkling of how to associate with Kirk without constant conflict.

The trip back to his room was a quiet one. It was nearing the middle of ship’s night and battles were often draining to the crew, mentally and physically. Serik had already returned for meditation and sleep, leaving Sovik to be his guard for the night along with one of the human guards. Spock didn’t bother to be surprised when he entered his quarters to see Kirk, standing next to his small book shelf. The human was unaware of his presence, letting his fingers brush against the spines with a light, tentative touch. Longing burned in his eyes as he slowly pulled his hands away and buried them into his pockets.

Honey. Something that peeked the man’s interest. Kirk always seemed to be interested in everything. Spock had dismissed it as being bored, but perhaps it was more than that. Maybe, Kirk wasn’t bored but eager. Eager for a chance to do something intellectually stimulating.

An idea manifested in the Vulcan’s mind, already forming a plan as he entered farther into the room.

Kirk turned to face Spock, hearing his approach. The longing vanished and was replaced with his usual cocky look, his posture adopting a casual stance.

“I would prefer if you did not enter my room without my permission.” Spock took a seat at his desk, and turned on his terminal as well as his personal PADD.

“And where’s the fun in that,” he smirked.

“Why did you come here?”

Jim shrugged though his eyes did flicker to Spock’s side. “Just wondering who or what Hades is. Anything that scares the shit out of Pike has to be good.”

“Hades is the nickname Starfleet officers have given Leopold Gunther Krupke III.”

Blue eyes widened to almost comical size. “Oh shit.”

“Indeed.” Spock pulled up several files. “Since you are already here, I would like you to answer these questions.” He pushed the PADD to the edge of the desk.

Kirk went unnaturally still, staring at the PADD with intensity. “What is it?” His voice faltered.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the behavior. “An aptitude test. I thought perhaps, if you prove to have skills of expertise in other areas, than perhaps we can come to a more qualified arrangement. One that better matches your interest.”

“Don’t want to.” Kirk’s face closed off, his eyes hardening and looking away from the device. “I’m going back to my room.”

“It’s an order Mr. Kirk. Take the test.”

“Didn’t you fucking hear me?! I don’t want to, so just drop it!” He turned on his heel, wanting to leave as quickly as he could. Still in arms reach of Spock, his arm was captured in the Vulcan’s iron grip.

“Do not speak to me in that manner. I am still your master,” Spock said coldly.

Jim tried to pull away even though he knew that he couldn’t escape, tugging uselessly over and over again. His face becoming red as he said again with rage, “Let me go!”

Spock tightened his grip, intending to say something else when he saw Kirk’s eyes. His face was indeed angry but those crystal blue eyes were shimmering with unshed tears of embarrassment and vulnerability. The sight shocked Spock so much, he unconsciously let go.

The human took the opportunity to run, rushing out of the room as if hell was following him. But Spock could only stand baffled at the development and wonder how exactly it went from trying to do something nice to standing and wondering what the hell just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translations today.
> 
> Please Comment and leave Kudos


	9. Maybe He's not so Bad Aater All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I do not have a Beta so please forgive mistakes and tell me where they're at if I missed them.

Spock half expected Kirk not to show for work the next day. Of course the human had to defy his expectations, and not only show up, but show up earlier than even Serik. It wasn’t the only change. On the surface, Kirk didn’t seem to be acting any different. He was still an ostentatious irritant. He had taken to annoying Sovik specifically, especially since the incident in the gym. If Spock was honest, he felt slight amusement at Sovik’s increasingly annoyed expressions. Serik was of course disapproving of his brother’s emotionalisms, and Spock was amazed a human could somehow tell, with certainty, that he was succeeding at riling up a Vulcan.

Despite everything continuing as always, Spock felt distance. Kirk was somehow not the same, keeping his actions under a tighter leash, not looking at him if it could be helped, not quite talking to him directly, and Spock still didn’t understand why.

“Captain, we are ready to energize.” The nervous technician’s voice cracked at the end.

Currently, Spock, Serik, Kirk, Pike, and three other security officers were crowded in the small transporter room. The captain was sweating profusely, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

Jim couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at Pike, a difficult thing to do since Spock had ordered Kirk to stay mostly hidden behind him if chance allowed it. Every being a part of the Empire knew of the emperor, but Hades was probably even infamous, and nearly everyone feared him more.

The being that materialized onto the transporter pad was nothing like Spock had ever seen. The figure was tall and slim, dressed in a black, loose fitting tunic and tight pants, both decorated in gold trim that flared and curled at the ends, making the simple design seem complex. Leather boots that went to his mid-calf were laced up and shined to perfection. His long hair, as pitch black as obsidian with just as much luster, was pulled up into a high ponytail, a gold ringlet to keep it in place, though strands still framed his face. His face was pale and flawless. His eyes as black coal.  On his left wrist a thick gold bracelet and on his right hand, a silver ring, proof of his status and identity.

It wasn’t his appearance though that was so impressive that it drew even a Vulcan’s attention. While the man before him was beautiful yet cold, though his dress simple yet elegant, it was the aura that surrounded him. Every move was fluent and confident, every action demanded respect and attention, and his eyes seemed to see through everything. He was a man who could not be swayed. His presence alone intimidated the strongest men, and as he took the first step off the transporter pad every person held their breath. Pike and Spock took a knee, showing their respect while the other officers saluted due to being on security detail.  Spock could not help but think that he fit his nickname well. He was clearly not an ordinary human.

“Your highness, you humble us with your presence,” Pike spoke politely, but nervousness seeped into every word.

The man looked around the room, no emotion clear on his face and stopped at the technician behind the console. “Send him to the execution room,” his smooth baritone voice rung in the otherwise silent room. Upon his command, the security detail that Pike had brought moved to get the sputtering technician. No one else budged or bothered to question why even as the technician was dragged out. Once the door closed, he spoke again. “You may rise.”

Pike and Spock stood up and went into parade rest.  “Your highness, I must ask, where is your security detail? Should I provide some men for you to use?”

“I prefer to travel alone.” His eyes landed on Spock next. “I would like to borrow your conference room if it would not trouble you, Captain. And your first officer.”

Pike tensed, unsure of what to make of the request. “O-of course, your highness. Any resource we have is at your disposal.” Pike barked orders to his remaining men to quickly have a room set up. Their guest did not wait for Pike to set up something. Instead, he walked as if he had always been aboard the _Enterprise_ , as if he owned it. Spock went to follow, signaling Serik and Kirk to stay behind.

Pike escorted their guest until Hades chose the room for their meeting. It was a small conference room, meant for one on one discussions, rarely used for anything besides performance reviews.  The room had one terminal, a small table, and two comfortable chairs. Nothing else. 

Their guest took his seat in one of the chairs and, gestured for Spock to do the same. “Computer, engage security lock,” he said. The computer complied, locking the door.

In contrast to Spock’s ramrod straight posture, the guest was much more casual, crossing his legs, and leaning his head against his fist as he scanned over a PADD he had been provided.

“Your highness, if I may ask a query?”

Their guest exhaled lightly, not quite a sigh but definitely a show of exasperation. He sounded bored as he spoke next. “Are you not going to call me Hades as well?” At Spock’s silence, he smiled just a little. “I am well aware of what they call me behind me back. I find it quite amusing, and despite its derogatory nature, quite accurate.”

“As the name came about with ill intent, I will not use it, your highness.”

“Enough, Commander.  As far as I am concerned, we are of equal status. As much as a bumbling idiot my older brother is, he is the emperor, I am not.  From one prince to another, Leo is fine.” The prince returned to setting up the PADD for their meeting.

Spock bowed his head slightly. “The Vulcan monarchy does not hold such importance among its people as yours does to the empire, but if you insist, then I shall do so. My query, is to ask why you chose to have an audience with me rather than Captain Pike.”

A few taps on the PADD and its contents on the screen appeared on a holo before them. “I have been following the achievements of the _Enterprise_. My position requires me to keep track of the assassin rates onboard starships and overall success of missions. If the assassin rates are too high, the productivity of the ship becomes too low. That cannot happen. However, the _Enterprise_ has had many successful missions and relatively low assassin rates since you have become first officer.” Several mission documents popped up side by side. “Any imbecile can see it is not Pike but you who have increased the overall success.  Also, Pike, while known for being a great tactician in the captain’s seat, does not listen well nor does he like to take orders. You and I, we are the ones who take care of the things that happen in the background while others take the forefront. It is where we rather be.”

“And what is it you wish to speak of in person? A visit from the Chief of Jury and Execution is no small matter.”

“The information you sent was rather concerning, Commander. According to the information we received, the rebels have discovered a very wealthy benefactor willing to supply and train them. Furthermore, this wealthy benefactor appears to be Romulan.”

Spock met Leo’s eyes, understanding why he chose to tell Spock this. “From one Prince to another,” Spoke repeated, feeling the weight of his words. “I will warn them.”

“You are in a precarious position, Commander. However, I believe it is only fair to give you warning. By noon today, the report will be sent to all high ranking officials. Your bodyguards will take the brunt of this as well if their secret has not been well guarded.”

Spock thought of the rather loud mouthed doctor. “You are well informed of the company I keep.”

Leo chuckled lightly, but it was chilling rather than reassuring. “I know of any and everything that may be cause for a threat against the empire. Any test and I will be sure to pass.” With those words, Spock could not contest them. He believed it. “Since you are here, give me an in depth report about the _Enterprise_.”

The report took two hours to relay. The prince asked precise and well placed questions, prying open anything Spock may attempt to hide through wording alone, and after the third failed attempt to reword a situation, Spock stopped trying to, realizing it would not work with this man. He could see all and again, briefly, Spock thought he was not human.

Afterwards, Leo stood up and thanked Spock for his time and gestured that Spock could leave with a wave of his hand. Before Spock could leave, he made sure to add, “You have nothing to fear of me Spock. Rest assured that I am fair and just in my judgments. I extend that philosophy to every member of the empire even your people,” he smiled. “So there was no need to try to hide Mr. Kirk. The technician had a level 1 felony. Kirk has small misdemeanors that barely equate as a level 5 all together.”

“Of course, your high─ Leo…” Spock bowed to him and opened the door, only to see Pike standing right outside. Stepping aside, he allowed the captain to come into the room before leaving himself.

Hades was an indeed appropriate name for the man he had just met, Spock thought. But for all the wrong reasons.  More importantly, he was now in debt to Prince Leopold for the warning. In debt to the god of the underworld. The irony was not lost on him.

Half an hour behind schedule, Spock made his way into the bowels of the ship, stopping only when the security guards stopped him to verify his entry through the security chief then Mr. Scott. The procedure was tedious. It was still early morning, ship’s time, so the procedure took 39 percent longer than usual. No doubt the reason being Mr. Scott most likely being in a compromising position and unable to respond to the intercom or communicator immediately. Sure enough, when Spock finally received clearance to enter, he found Mr. Scott upside down in a harness, trying to screw in a panel just off the walkway.

“You’re late. Do you have any idea what time it is?” Mr. Scott lifted the goggles off his eyes and onto his forehead, showing the outline of grease around his eyes.

“0339,” Spock  replied. 

“Huh, not as late as I thought.”  Scotty pulled himself up, so he was safely situated onto the walkway. “I must say Commander, it’s a wee bit odd to have you come personally visit.”

The engineer fished for the proper PADD amongst a heap of tools and replicator trays. “Mr. Scott, when is the last time you rested?”

“There was a last time?” the reply was so serious, Spock wondered if the engineer was serious or a human prank that he could not comprehend. “I think four nights ago? The stardate is 2258.73 right?”

“2258.75,” Spock corrected. The fact that he was missing two days didn’t seem to shock the engineer and further chipped away at Spock’s patience. “I believe you have been instructed on multiple occasions to rest regularly, and that limitations will be set to your clearance and you will be locked out after 96 continuous hours if you were warned one more time.”

The Scott laughed. “Yeah, that is a good one commander. Lock out your chief engineer. You’d be mad to lock me out and leave it to that motley crew. And I get rest.”

“Reading engineering dissertations in the Jefferies tubes does not constitute as adequate rest.”

“If I didn’t know you were only saying that because you are worried about the ship’s proficiency, I’d be touched at the concern.”  Scotty finally found the PADD he was looking for and as Spock predicted, there was grease marring the screen.  “Don’t you worry though sir, I’d die before I let harm come to my beautiful lady.”

“I will be taking you off duty for the next 12 hours, and you will be banned from entering the engineering department.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scotty waved him off, stretching. “Do you mind if I steal Jim from ya for a few hours? Useful that one is. He knows how to treat a lady. Especially the older ones. Can’t even get one of my own engineers to touch anything older than 25 years. Spoiled they are.”

Spock signed off on the PADD and handed it back. “As long as it is in his off hours, it is his choice in how he spends his time.”

“Great. I went and,” Scotty pulled up the schematics onto a PADD, “got this little beauty for him to work on. Came to me yesterday asking for something to do. Wouldn’t say what was bugging him, but I thought I surprise him.”

“That is rather considerate of you considering you have requested 139 times to either execute or replace another engineer in the past three years.”

Mr. Scott smiled unapologetically. “I only work with the best, sir. Not my fault they keep sending me piss poor recruits. Speaking of which, about that new recruit Keenser─”

“Will stay assigned to your department. He came highly recommended and knowledgeable and had high praise for being able to follow instructions, a trait you should find highly desirable.”

The engineer made a face, but didn’t argue. “Fine. Have it your way. At least increase my budget.”

“….I will consider it.”

“Thank you.” Happy with the possibility of a higher budget, Scotty started to pack up his things before Spock tried to follow through with his threat to lock him out.

Having completed his duties, Spock was ready to leave when a thought occurred to him. “Mr. Scott, what is your opinion when it comes to Mr. Kirk and his patience in learning knew information?”

“Learning? Why, I’d say Jim is the most eager person I ever met. Picks up everything I show him and tell him. He’s like a sponge.”

“Then why would he not wish to take an aptitude test to possibly further his education?”

Mr. Scotts face fell and realization dawned over his features.  “You tried to make him take a test?”

Spock gave one sharp nod.

With a loud sigh, Mr. Scott shook his head. “No wonder the poor lad is upset. That was probably a big blow to his pride.”

“Pride is a useless quality to have. It makes one unnecessarily stubborn.”

“For someone who’s never had anything, pride’s all he’s got. Though I’m surprised you didn’t know, sir. I had my suspicious the second time I worked with him, but was certain by the third.  I just never said anything because he was trying so hard to hide it. Who am I to ruin it for him?”

Spock’s eyebrows drew together. “Inform me.”

* * *

Spock left engineering with much on his mind, reviewing everything the engineer had revealed to him. Out of all the possibilities, it had never occurred to him that _that_ was the problem. He came off so smart and confident and since it appeared he was well educated, the option wasn’t even on the table for consideration. Given what he had learned about Kirk so far, the human’s reaction made much more sense. Spock had accidentally humiliated him. Doctor McCoy’s advice was proving difficult to accomplish.

The computer informed him of Kirk’s whereabouts in the recreation room. He was still trying to figure out what he should say when he arrived. Though his thoughts derailed when he arrived to see Kirk and Prince Leopold sitting down together with a chess set between them. Leo, facing the door, looked up at him, amusement flashing across his face. “Well Mr. Kirk, it seems that our time is up. Your master has come to collect you. Perhaps we can continue another time,” Leo stood up, adjusting a sword on his hip that definitely wasn’t there when Spock had his conference with him.

“Sure thing, Leo.” Kirk didn’t stand with him, something custom demanded when in the presence of royalty. In fact, Kirk didn’t even look up, still staring at the chess board as the prince walked passed him.

As Leopold walked by he bowed his head slightly and said, “Commander.”

Spock returned the gesture, bowing his head, watching the prince leave in the corner of his eye. The door hissed closed behind him.

Kirk continued to sit in the chair, his back to him and leaning forward, seemingly studying the board.

Spock watched. Silence had fallen in the room, neither one moving or making a sound. Then Spock said, “You can’t read, can you.”

Kirk didn’t move for a long while, and Spock thought Kirk wasn’t going to acknowledge him. “You know, everyone assumes I’m stupid. After all, what would a slave know? And when they find out, they say how right they are; treat me like shit, like I’m less than human. That I don’t have common sense and can’t perform basic routines or that I’m diseased and if they make contact with me they’ll catch it. So I learned to keep it hidden.  Learned as much as I could to cover it up, so no one would ever know.”

Spock walked across the room, occupying the seat Leopold had vacated moments before. The board in front was in chaos with no evident strategy or clear winner or loser. “Do you play?”

“No. Leo offered to teach me after we bumped into each other in the hallway. I thought chess would make me seem smarter.”

Spock started to reset the board. “Intelligence is relative. A being can possess much academic information, but without the ability to utilize it, it is useless.” He set the last chess piece onto its rightful square. “You are not stupid, Mr. Kirk. On the contrary, I find you very intelligent. I would even say that you have what I lack. You can read people, and understand how they think. Evident by how you consistently manage to handle Sovik, Serik, and myself. Knowing when to push and when not to. You understand engineering, you’re capable of adapting to many situations, and you put the skills you do know into practical use. I am certain, with further education, you can become a legitimate threat.”

A small smile graced the human’s lips. “A threat, huh. Quite a high compliment coming from you.”

“I would rather you become my ally. You’re a great asset.”

“Asset? An illiterate slave?”

“I will teach you.”

His eyes widened in disbelief and his mouth worked wordlessly, gaping like a fish as he tried to think of something to say. “Wh-why…why would you−,” he trailed off.

“I believe that I owe you a rather large favor for taking care of my would be assassins. It would cut into your time with Mr. Scott and Doctor McCoy if you agree, but if you are inclined to−“

“Yes!” The outburst startled both of them. Red dusted Kirk’s cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated in a more subdued tone. “I’d like to learn.”

“Very well. After I return from the labs, I will have you take the aptitude test. I will read it for you so you can properly take it.”

“Thanks,” he scratched the back of his head.  “So um…do you play chess?”

“Yes, my mother had an affinity for the game. She ensured that I learned.”

“Well, why don’t we try a game? Though, I can’t guarantee that I’ll give you any challenge.”

“If you wish to lose, then I am not against it.”

“Oh, cocky aren’t we?” Kirk moved a pawn forward. “Bring it on.”                                                                           

* * *

Kirk lost. He expected it of course, but he didn’t expect to be completely annihilated. Thinking back on it, Kirk had never seen Spock carefully form a plan and carry it out before. He always followed either Pike’s orders or Kirk’s lead. Still, it had ended up being more fun than he had expected. At 0500, Kirk had to report for his sparing session, and Spock had to go back to his duties.

Other than Pike being on edge throughout the day, the ship functioned normally. At some point, the prince left the ship. Kirk didn’t know when he left, but the tension his presence brought didn’t quite leave as Spock was quieter than usual. But he was too excited to ask or pay much attention. He was counting down until Spock would be free from the labs.

After dinner with McCoy, and surprisingly Scotty, Jim couldn’t wait anymore. He clutched the PADD Spock gave him just before the end of his bridge shift and headed to the labs to meet him. As he neared, he heard Serik and Spock’s voices drift into the corridor even though they spoke in hushed tones. No one seemed to be around which made it even odder. While it was past work hours, usually there were still scientists working on experiments. Spock was fond of deadlines. Jim stopped just outside the partially opened door, listening hard to make out their words.

“Are you certain, Nu’ri-trensu?”

“I have already alerted T’Pau. She is prepared for the backlash. More importantly, you and Sovik−“

“We will stay. It is our job to protect you.”

“As it is mine to protect our people,” Spock countered. “You and Sovik will become targets if you stay.”

“A risk we were well aware of when dedicated our lives to you.”

“Out of obligation to T’Pau.”

Serik went silent for several moments then responded, “It was the logical choice.”

“If you continue to accompany me, I will be the one inconvenienced. Therefore, I am also making a logical choice.”

“…I will request replacements for the time being. If you would excuse me,” he bowed at the waist before leaving. Jim stepped back away from the door, and to the right, so Serik could walk right pass him without seeing him, leaving the labs and Spock alone.

Hesitantly, Kirk stepped into the labs. “Is this a bad time?”

Spock’s head shot up. “Bad time?” he repeated.

“Looks like you were having a fight.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed. “You were spying.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “No, I just…” He lifted the PADD in his hands and smiled sheepishly. “Came to see if you were done.”

 He couldn’t hide his excitement.  Spock glanced at the PADD and the hostile behavior melted away and replaced with indifference. “What you witnessed was not a fight.”

“If you say so …. So…where do you want to do this?”

Spock turned around to turn off his computer. “My room will be best. I have already lowered the temperature to human levels.”

“The rec room would have been fine…” he trailed off.

Spock stood straight, tugging the bottom of his shirt down. “I prefer my room.”

Kirk smiled, a bit relieved that he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in public. “Of course you do. Can’t let all those nasty humans contaminate you.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Indeed.” He gestured to the door.

With one last grin, Jim led the way.

* * *

 “Jesus, kid, you look like you haven’t slept. What are you doing hunched over a PADD like that?” McCoy set his tray down next to Jim, looking over his shoulder. Jim had been practicing tracing letters with the stylus. At McCoy’s voice, he flipped the PADD over.

“It’s nothing,” he said too quickly. “Just looking over some stuff Spock gave me.”

“And that’s why you’re protecting that thing like gold in Fort Knox. Remember what I told you kid, you aren’t going to be fully healthy ever again if you don’t eat and get some rest.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nothing, I pro─” A loud crash rang throughout the mess hall. Everyone became silent and turned towards the source of the noise.

Sovik stood next to the replicator, his uniform covered in plomeek soup and spaghetti while two silver trays fell to the ground. In front of him stood another crew member, one Jim had never seen before. The crew member was from security and due to the angle, Kirk couldn’t see his rank, but he was grabbing Sovik by the shirt. Sovik didn’t fight, keeping his hands at his sides in a passive manner. “What do you have to say for yourself? You fucking spy.”

Sovik’s silence earned him a punch that nearly knocked him over. The second did, hitting him while he was still unbalanced and sending him sprawled out onto the floor. At Sovik’s fall, the mess hall became rowdy again, cheering at the display. McCoy stood up, but Jim grabbed his arm, urging him to sit down.

Jim watched as the officer mounted Sovik. “It’s your fault she’s gone. You fucking Romulan.” With each word he struck Sovik again and again and the Vulcan made no attempts to counter. “You and your fucking rebels!”

McCoy was looking between Jim and the Vulcan, obviously wanting to jump in, but refraining now as well. Jibes grew louder as the beating continued. Someone had just tossed the assaulter a knife when a phaser fired, hitting the replicators just behind the attacker and making silence fall once again.

 Spock stood at the entrance, hands behind his back a blank expression on his face and the air around him as cold as ice. Serik stood beside him, phaser drawn and pointed at the attacker. Though he too had a blank face, his normally calm eyes were dark and murderous.

Everyone in the mess hall moved to get to attention minus the attacking officer. The officer raised his hands, but didn’t move to get off of Sovik either.

“Sovik, are you conscious,” Spock asked without looking away from the attacker.

“Yes, Commander,” the reply was nasally, and Sovik’s face was dripping green blood from his nose.

“Serik.”

Just the utterance of his name had him moving, taking the attacker off his brother and restraining him on the floor, arm twisted behind his back so if the officer decided to fight back, he would have to break his arm to get out of it.

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock’s voice sent chills down the doctor’s spine, not eager to respond. “I believe you requested new test subjects for your ongoing medical experiments.”

At the mention, McCoy’s eyes lit up. “I’ll tell the nurses to get the table ready.” With a slap to Jim’s back, McCoy left to do just that.

“Lieutenant Sulu, take Mr. Hendroff to Dr. McCoy. Make a note that a position in security has opened up.”

Sulu came out from the crowd saluting. “Yes, sir.” Sulu immediately went to work on his orders.

“As it seems that every officer here is using their free time encouraging disorder rather than preventing it, I will assume all of you have consumed the required nourishment and are prepared to return to your duties. Therefore, I expect to see everyone at their stations in 5 minutes.”

There was a mad shuffle to leave the mess hall. Spock stood absolutely still as everyone cleared the room, careful to avoid him. Kirk stayed behind, meal long forgotten, but unable to leave.

The moment the last officer escaped the mess hall, Serik went to Sovik’s side, helping him wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve. “Your nose is broken.”

“I am well aware,” Sovik said dryly. Serik’s response was to straighten out his brother’s nose, causing his brother to inhale sharply.

“What was that all about?”

Spock glanced at Kirk. “Were you present since the beginning?”

Jim eyed Spock, recognizing a shut down when he saw it. “Yeah I was, but it wasn’t my job to get involved.”

“Indeed it wasn’t,” Spock said, looking back at Sovik. “Our lesson will be canceled today. Work on the three files I gave you.”

“Should I replace Sovik on duty?”

“You have already fulfilled your duties for today.  Submit the files before the next lesson.”

Jim nodded. It had been a while since he saw Spock like this. Cold, distant, trying to exert his dominance for the sake of showing that he wasn’t weak.  “What a world we live in,” he murmured.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the comment, but didn’t reply, making sure Sovik was escorted to sickbay before going on with his business. Jim stayed, taking residence in McCoy’s office and waiting for him to return. He managed to make a dent into his homework assignment when McCoy came back, nearly giddy and babbling to a nurse about the effect of some mutated Angorian mud flu virus. Jim smirked, putting the stylus down. “Wow, I’ve never seen you so happy.”

McCoy took the charts and waved the nurse off. “Well, I’ve been hounding the hobgoblin for a human subject for a while, but there hadn’t been anyone stupid enough to piss him off to that degree for a while. Slows down my medical findings.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jim folded his hands and leaned forward. “Do you know why that officer is accusing Sovik of being Romulan?”

McCoy scrunched his nose as if it was a topic he rather avoid. “How much do you know about Vulcans?”

He shrugged. “Not much. Especially since they were mostly wiped out 25 years ago.  Just the basics. Super strong. Super smart. And they can tear apart your mind with a touch.”

“Yeah well, that’s just the surface of the mystery of the hobgoblins. It’s not really a secret on the ship, but it was huge when Spock first joined and brought them along with him. The previous CMO was a bit of a blabbermouth.”

“And you aren’t?”

 McCoy punched his shoulder. “Anyway, it got out that the twin cyborgs were half Romulan.  Caused a huge stir 9 years ago. I heard it was hard for Spock to compensate for it. He was a real hard ass. More so then than now. The ones who witnessed it are still scared shitless to cross him.”

“I don’t get it. What benefit could there be to have them born in the first place after Nero?”

McCoy gave a dry laugh, fishing for a bottle of gin in his desk. “They’re almost 50 years old, kid. They were born way before Nero ever came into the picture. And to answer your question, some people do actually fall in love. Proves that people are still fools. And secondly, in their parents’ case, it may not have been planned.”

“What do you mean?”

McCoy poured a glass and handed it to Jim then proceeded to pour himself one. “Romulans are closely related to Vulcans. They share the same ancestry. They are one of the few species that could have children together without medical intervention. So even if it was a one night thing─”

“It could be enough," Jim finished. "How many people know about the Romulan/Vulcan history thing?”

McCoy snorted. “People are hardheaded. Vulcans look like Romulans, and that’s enough for people to automatically be biased against them. Never mind the differences between them.”

“Why don’t they fight it?”

 McCoy took a long drink from the bottle then sighed. “There’s a lot you don’t know kid. You’ve been out in the boonies most your life. But for that question, it’s probably best suited to ask the bastard himself.”

“Bastard might be civil to me now, but wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass if I tried to pry.” He laughed. “And I don’t care to. It’s none of my business.”

“Heh, true.” He finished off the bottle and put it aside. “So how about I help you with your homework?”

Jim blushed, looking down at the desk uncomfortably. “When’d you find out?”

“Please, it became real obvious when I left my PADD with your medical records right next to you. You asked me ‘So what’s the damage’ the moment I came back. Knowing you, you would have read through my files yourself if you could. Snot-nosed kid.”

“Love you too, Bones.” Kirk took a sip from his glass. “And yeah, I’d love some help. This homework is kind of hard after only one lesson.”

“Yet you can’t keep the smile off your face.” The doctor smirked and pulled up a chair. “Alright then, tell me what your Vulcan professor is trying to melt your brain with.”

* * *

The pounding of one’s heart, the rhythmic breathing, normally it was good to clear an overworked mind. But it wasn’t enough. Never was when it came to her. Speaking twice in less than two weeks was not healthy. Not for him. He hated feeling incompetent, like a child. And he hated the fact that she provoked his emotions out from him. She did it on purpose, to remind him what he was.

Spock stepped off the treadmill, before it could come to a stop. It wasn’t enough. The pent up energy he had. Even though he had run for an hour as fast as he could, even though it was nearly 0300 and had yet to go to bed, he could not get her words out of his head.

“Rough night?”

Spock whipped around hand on his knife, not expecting to see Kirk with his hands up. Pushing down his irritation, removed his hands from his knife and eyed his workout bag where his gloves were kept. “It is normal for humans to be asleep at this time.”

With a shrug, Kirk eyed Spock’s bare hands for an instant. “Well, sometimes it’s hard to sleep.” He backed away touching the sandbag. “And when that happens, I like to come here. Obviously, I’m not the only one. Especially if you ditched Sovik and Serik to come here alone.”

Spock took the chance to retrieve his gloves, unsure why Kirk had decided to approach him. “Why don’t you try hitting this? You look like you need to punch something,” Kirk patted the bag.

“It is not an activity I particularly like to indulge in. I have Vulcan practices to exercise my strength and maintain discipline.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “How’s that working out for you?”

Spock’s lips thinned.

Grinning, he prodded, “Come on, try it. I’ll even show you how.”

Spock eyed the bag. “The activity seems primitive.”

“That’s the fun part.” Kirk waved him over. “Come on.”

Spock took a few tentative steps towards the bag. With controlled strength, he punched the bag.

“Boo! What type of punch is that?”

“I hit the sand bag as you instructed.”

“But it was so … pathetic. Hit it like you mean it. Picture…picture Chris’s annoyingly smug face.”

Spock’s eyebrows drew together, and he hit the bag much harder this time. “That’s it. Harder.” At the encouragement, he punched again and again, progressively getting faster and landing them harder. “Yeah, that’s it!”

Spock actually lost track of time. The sting felt good and letting go, using all his strength, was a welcomed change. At some point, Kirk tagged him out and took up a rhythm himself. Kirk was different than him. While his punches were weaker, he had form and technique. It was raw, but structured, the years of fighting engrained in his body shining through.

After a combination of punches, he pulled back and took off his shirt in one swift motion, and went immediately back to hitting the bag. His hair was damp, his eyes intense, and sweat dripped down the contours of his muscles. Spock watched as a droplet rolled down the human’s tanned chest. Looking away, he realized that it was nearing 0400.

“Have you received any rest?”

Kirk stepped back to let Spock have another shot. “Nah, but… I’m used to losing sleep.”

Spock stopped mid punch, catching the dark expression on Kirk’s face. “I admit that your methods are proving to be effective.”

“Maybe you should listen to me more,” he slapped Spock’s shoulder.

“Do not touch me,” Spock said, but it lacked the coldness usually associated with his commands.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll be sitting over here, watching a Vulcan blow off steam.” Kirk took a seat against the wall.

At some point, Serik came in to train with Spock. As a good bodyguard, he didn’t question why Spock had changed locations or why he had been out all night and thoroughly exhausting himself physically. As a good teacher, he lectured him on lack of control and letting himself get thoroughly exhausting.

Halfway through the exercises, Spock realized how quiet Kirk had gotten. He paused long enough to find out why. Kirk had fallen asleep against the wall, drooling.

“Shall I wake him, Commander? His training begins in ten minutes.”

Spock watched a bit longer. “No. Cancel it and change his shift to the second.”

“Sir?”

Spock returned his attention to Serik. “Once more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please. They warm me.


	10. Lust and Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may or may not be good. . . I don't know.

Two weeks had passed, and life on the _Enterprise_ continued in a fragile balance of normalcy. The tension was rising, and so was Pike’s outward hostility. It was only a matter of time before the crew found out about the report. Every day, more and more people were figuring it out. Rumors were already flying. The security guards looked at him with suspicion and on more than one occasion, he heard about Serik and Sovik being stopped from entering areas of the ship. The human guards Serik had procured were tolerable, but they were no Vulcan. They could not anticipate his needs or perform to his expectations. Often he switched them out with Kirk when he could.

Kirk didn’t complain about the increased workload. His normal eight hour work day had gradually increased to fifteen. It wasn’t all duty. Whenever he was in the labs or in his room alone, he allowed Kirk to work on his lessons, even occasionally engaging him in conversation as he worked calculation in his head. When Spock had informed Kirk that he was simultaneously doing his work and teaching him, Kirk looked at him in awe then annoyed, asking if it required so little brainpower he could do both at once.

To Spock’s surprise and secret satisfaction, Kirk was learning at an accelerated rate. Within two weeks, he was already at middle school reading level, choosing increasingly difficult books every day to read, extracting them from his personal library. Lately, Spock was teacher him proper standard, something Kirk hated with a passion as he insisted on speaking colloquially, but he learned and wrote his first book report by the end of his second week. At the rate of progression, Spock figured, Kirk would be at college reading level at the end of the month and know proper grammar and syntax by the second.

After lessons, occasionally they would play chess. Kirk’s progress at learning the game quickly and efficiently wasn’t a surprise. Kirk had already proved to have a tactician’s mind, and his play style had developed the same way his plans did. It was fast and chaotic.

Spock entered his quarters after a long shift, intending to meditate, when he saw Kirk browsing his bookshelf. Just like the very first time, Kirk pulled a book off the shelf, handling it with tender care, and then pulled down another.

“You have already finished the last set you borrowed?”

Kirk gave him a sheepish grin. “Couldn’t put them down.”

“At your current rate, you will finish my collection in less than a month.” Spock walked further into the room and started to set up the chess board. “Chess?”

Kirk nodded, pulling up a chair to the small table. “I want black this time.”

Spock nodded as he put the last piece into place. “As you wish.”

The game started in silence with just the soft clicks of moving pieces as the only sound. As usual, Spock half paid attention to the game and worked out scientific formulas on his latest experiment with the other half.

“You look tired.”

Spock looked up from the game at the human in front of him. There were dark bags forming under his eyes, his hair awry and his skin slightly pale. “So do you.” It then occurred to Spock he had made Kirk work on his day off last week.

Kirk just gave a halfhearted shrug, rubbing the sleep from his face. “I’ve been through worse.”

“You may have tomorrow off to recuperate.” Spock moved his knight.

Kirk leaned back in his seat, studying the board. “Won’t do either of us any good. Chris will just try to harass me, and those new guards would stab you in the back if they could afford it.”

“The situation will not change in the upcoming days. You should rest while you have the opportunity.”

They played a little more, falling back into silence.

“Every living thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.”

“Jean Paul Satre,” Spock raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden quote.

“I read a little last night. It’s hard to understand, but the quote stuck with me.” Jim moved his queen to take Spock’s knight. “It fits well, doesn’t it? We don’t choose to be born, we live because we are too afraid to die and yet no matter what, without ever knowing when, we still die.”

“I believe that is what we call life.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Edith Keeler didn’t interfere with America’s entry into the war. Maybe the empire wouldn’t even exist.” Jim laughed bitterly. “I guess it doesn’t matter. No point in wondering in what might have been.”

“You are correct. However, I too occasionally wonder what may have happened if events had played out differently.” Spock took Jim’s queen and put him in check. “It is an illogical waste of time to wonder past speculation, and regretting what could not come to pass.”

“True. And the weak must die in order for others to live. The amount of corpses that may accumulate at your feet are the trophies that prove you have survived, that you will continue to do so.” A dark shadow passed over Kirk’s features.

“Perhaps.”

Kirk moved his pawn, taking his king out of check and checkmating Spock simultaneously. Spock’s eyes widened slightly in surprise and an almost a suave smile replaced the darkness. “Guess next time you can pay more attention to the game than your experiments when you play.”

Spock was still studying the board, wondering exactly how Kirk had managed to pull one over him. “Indeed.”

Kirk stood, stretching and cracking his neck. “Thanks for the game. I should get going.”

“Good night Mr. Kirk.”

The human waved as he left and Spock studied the board one last time. No rhyme or reason in Kirk’s playing style, but when the opportunity came for Spock to take the queen without hazard to her and put his opponent in check, he took it, leaving Spock’s king open to a lowly pawn. “A dangerous genius indeed.”

* * *

 

“I see you and the hobgoblin are getting along,” McCoy said through a mouthful of sandwich. “Lessons going that well?”

Jim tried to steal a fry from his friend’s plate but was rewarded with a hard slap to his hand for his trouble. Wincing, he retracted the appendage. “I think it’s more that the both of us are too tired to be hostile. He works 20 hours a day, and I’m going 15. Two hours towards the end of our shift goes to lessons, then another hour afterwards for chess.” He sighed and looked at the salad in front of him. “He doesn’t do anything but work. I don’t even think he sleeps.”

“Which just validates my robot theory if you ask me.” McCoy took pity on him and gave Jim a few fries and a small pudding. “And just between you and me, I don’t think he’s ever even gotten laid. You never see anyone in his quarters. No one but you anyway.”

“That would explain the huge stick up his ass. Shame too, he’s got a nice ass.” Jim laughed at the green hue McCoy’s face had taken.

“Don’t give me such disturbing images. I’m gonna need brain bleach to get that out of my head.”

“Don’t worry, Bones. I’m straight. I’m just comfortable with myself enough to acknowledge if a guy is hot.”

The doctor scoffed. “Nothing about that green blooded bastard is attractive.”

“I don’t know Bones. The super strength can be really kinky if you’re into S&M.”

“That it! I’m leaving!” The doctor stood up with his tray, leaving in a hurry with Jim’s laughter filling the nearly empty mess.

Rushing to finish his lunch, Jim scarfed down the rest of his food then put his tray away. He was slightly late arriving back to the bridge, but he didn’t think Spock would mind too much giving the long shift he would undoubtedly work later that night. As he stepped out of the turbolift, two security guards were hauling an unconscious Sovik past him onto the lift. Jim didn’t hide his surprise and quickly looked to Spock to find out what happened while he was away. It was then he noticed how heavy the atmosphere was with Pike and Spock staring each other down. Pike had his arms crossed, looking smug while Spock had his arms behind his back and his face carefully neutral. “Do you have anything to say Spock?”

“No Captain.”

Pike seemed pleased by the answer. “Should I order full duration, Captain?” Sulu asked.

“No, Mr. Sulu. The booth is too good for a Romulan traitor.” The captain turned his back to Spock, circling the bridge in thought. “How about a hunt? Our new security officers haven’t had the opportunity to practice since the academy, and we are next to a class M planet. A Vulcan should offer a good challenge.”

Spock stood not saying a word and looking straight ahead.

“I’ll take your silence as an agreement then. Unless there is something you want to say?”

“No, Captain.”

Pike looked positively gleeful at Spock’s response. “You really are nothing more than a pushover, Commander. I can see why your own people were so eager to get rid of you. That title of yours is nothing more than a courtesy.” He approached Spock until he was barely inches away. “You’re nothing more than an empire lapdog willing to suck cock just to maintain his own position.”

“Can’t the same be said for you, Chris?”

Pike took a step back from Spock and turned slowly to Jim. “Not as good as your−“

“Really? You’re going there again? Can’t you come up with something more original?” Jim rolled his eyes

He stood his ground as Pike came towards him. “You really have a death wish don’t you?” he growled.

“Take one step closer, and I’ll tell everyone what happened on stardate 2239.91.”

Pike stopped. “You’re bluffing, and you have no proof.”

Jim gave him a doubtful look. “On stardate 2239.90, Lieutenant Commander Christopher Pike, arrive at Space dock orbiting−“

“Enough,” he growled. “Get out of my sight.”

Jim looked at Spock, waiting for him to say something, anything. “You are confined to quarters until further notice, Mr. Kirk,” Spock didn’t even glance at him, still looking at the empty space in front of him.

Jim scowled. “Whatever, I was going to skip work anyway.” Somehow it felt like he left in defeat even though he managed to get Pike to shut up. He wanted to rebel and disobey, but first went to the brig to see if he could meet Sovik himself and find out what exactly happened in the short time he was at lunch. Predictably, security was tight, and Serik was already there trying to get by. Whatever control Serik usually had on the ship was being undermined. Kirk watched the guards threaten Serik with a court martial and time in the agony booth. Serik was forced to back down. He just couldn’t understand why they weren’t fighting back. They were letting everyone walk all over them.

After Serik departed, presumably back to his duties, Kirk went back to his room. There was no way they were going to let him through if Serik couldn’t even suceed. The only thing he could do was wait to see if Spock would inform him. He wasn’t holding his breath for that either.

As he sat waiting, the more annoyed he felt. He had wasted a good threat against Pike that surely wouldn’t take the captain long to figure a way around. Speaking of which, he’d have to watch out for assassination attempts from Pike from now on. Pike no doubt thought he would never reveal that information as just the thought of that day made Jim want to throw up. He still wanted to, but he managed to feign indifference and make the threat, making it clear he wouldn’t stay silent if he pushed.

And even after wasting the threat, Spock still stood there like a damn punching bag. Why had he even said anything at all?

He tried to keep his mind off it by writing his next book report, fussing over the grammar for a good two hours before he grew bored with that. He was feeling cooped up in the small room, and his anger kept growing with nothing else to dwell on. As it neared dinner and still no news about his release from his room, he couldn’t take it anymore. He left on his own, seeking out the source of his frustration.

For once, Spock was actually in his room after shift, further proving in Kirk’s mind that Spock was running. How could someone so weak claim to be his owner?

The two human guards nodded at him and let him through, apparently not having received information that he had been confined to quarters. When Jim entered, it was hot. Sweltering even. He had forgotten how hot the room normally was since Spock had lowered the temperature for his visits. It was enough to make him begin sweating the moment he stepped foot into the room. Spock was out of uniform, dressed in black robes Jim had never seen. Jim still couldn’t read him, and it bothered him. He had almost always been able to get a hint of what he was feeling, but now there was nothing.

“I believe I confined you to quarters Mr. Kirk,” Spock said.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“You heard Pike didn’t you. He’s going to send Sovik on a hunt tomorrow.”

“I am well aware of Pike’s intentions. Sovik foolishly let his emotions control him and spoke when he shouldn’t. The mistake is his own, and he must deal with the consequences.”

“Consequences?” he said with disbelief. “You know, you’re full of bullshit. These past two weeks you’ve put up with a lot of shit, and you haven’t fought back once.”

“What I do is none of your concern?” Spock said coldly.

Kirk took a step closer. “You really don’t feel anything do you? Sovik will be chased. They will injure him and, once captured, humiliated. If he’s lucky. If not, they will rape him and upload the video. Then if someone feels ambitious, they might get past Pike, or maybe Pike will turn a blind eye to it, and sell him on the black market, and I hear Vulcans have a great price. Sovik might even go for a higher bid being one of a kind and all.”

“Step away from me,” Spock could barely keep his voice restrained, but anger was flashing across his eyes.

“It must not even compute what it means to care about something.” Kirk was close enough that they were nearly breathing the same air. “You’re nothing but the empire’s dog. You can never love anything, and you don’t deserve it.”

Spock grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall, making Jim hit his head and hiss in pain. “Do not speak of what you do not know!” He snapped, nothing but rage in his eyes.

“Don’t get mad at me just because you can’t handle the truth,” Jim wheezed. He struck the crook of Spock’s elbow, weakening his arm, but Spock was faster, pinning Jim’s arms above his head.

“You will submit, human! Do not test me,” he growled.

Kirk tried to get out of his grip, attempting to knee Spock in the crotch, forcing Spock to use his body to pin him completely. Kirk was breathing hard from his struggling combined with the heat. His skin was damp, and he wouldn’t stop fighting beneath him. This close he could see how much Kirk had changed since being in his care. His skin was a healthy color, his body up to the appropriate healthy weight for his size, and his muscles were more defined and lean than before. “You are an irritating human.”

“And you’re an asshole. Let me go, you mother fuck−“annoyed by Kirk’s talking, Spock smashed his lips against Kirk’s, effectively silencing him.

Kirk’s eyes widened in surprise, and he stopped struggling. In a daze, he opened his mouth to say something, and Spock slipped his tongue into his mouth. Everything about the human was intoxicating, the heat that radiated underneath him, his woodsy scent, the taste of his mouth. That was until Jim bit down on his tongue, catching his lip in the process.

Spock pulled away, blood trailing down his chin. Kirk smirked, licking the blood off his lips. Spock watched the pink tongue run over his lips. “I thought you said you would never find a human appealing.”

“You speak far too much.” He forced another kiss on the human. This time the human kissed back, it was all he could do with his body completely restricted. Spock used his free hand to tilt Jim’s head back to give himself more access to his mouth, and Jim allowed it for a few seconds before he head butted Spock. A low growl escaped the Vulcan, and he roughly turned Jim around and locking an arm behind his back. Jim’s free arm elbowed Spock just above the Vulcan’s heart. The wind left Spock’s lungs, but he managed to grab Jim’s hand and trap it against the wall with his own on top.

Spock’s lips grazed the back of Jim’s neck, his tongue licking a stray drop of sweat tasting the saltiness of his skin. The human shuddered deliciously underneath his body and a shaky breath escaped him.

Jim’s forehead rested against the wall. He was using every ounce of will in his body not to surrender to the pleasure. He turned his head to try to get Spock to meet his eyes. Spock eventually obliged before capturing his lips again in an aggressive kiss, fighting for dominance. Kirk bit him multiple times until Spock’s lips was a swollen mess, but it didn’t deter the Vulcan from using his free hand to slip under Kirk’s uniform. The leather clad hand trailed over his skin, slowly up from the navel to the left nipple.

The next time Jim bit him, Spock twisted the small nub between his fingers, making Jim’s back arch and moaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “Fuck,” it came out breathily.

Spock let Jim go, and the human rounded on him, striking Spock’s face with his fist. Spock caught the second punch while Jim tried to kick out Spock’s knee. The Vulcan stumbled back against the desk, knocking the PADDs onto the floor and dragging the human down on top of him, their lips connecting once again. The kiss was deep and messy, saliva trailing down their chins. Jim’s hand buried in Spock’s locks, pulling hard and yanking Spock’s head back sharply. Spock responded by gripping Jim’s wrist to the point it left a bruise, forcing Jim to let go. Jim tried to pull away, but doing so only caused their semi hard erections to brush against each other.

The action snapped Spock out of it, and he shoved Jim off his lap and onto the floor. Kirk hissed as he hit the back of his head against a chair on the same spot as his previous injury. When Jim looked backed up at Spock, the Vulcan seemed stunned, unsure of what to make of what just happened. Jim licked the blood off his lips and smirked when he caught Spock’s eyes watching the movement. “Feeling better?”

The Vulcan took a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to regain his senses. “Get out.”

Jim huffed, but stood up anyway. “Don’t know why you’re pissed,” he muttered. “I was the one assaulted.”

Spock wouldn’t look at Jim. He waited for him to leave his quarters, each second feeling like an eternity even though he knew realistically it was not possible. Even as the door closed, he could only wonder in stunned silence about what the hell he just did.

* * *

 

The next day, Jim received news that he had the day off. He would laugh if the situation wasn’t so pathetic. He was the one who should have been angry. He was the one who was suddenly attacked by a horny Vulcan, and yet Spock was the one running away. He was also frustrated. Both sexually and emotionally. He had no idea what made him react to Spock like that. The only conclusion he could come up with was that he was in a desperate need to get laid. After a heady dream of that moment over and over again during the night, he had to assume that was the case. He could have gone through life without knowing what it felt like to have someone so strong pin him down and handle his body so easily . He liked women dammit.

So that’s how he found himself wandering the halls the next morning, searching for a potential partner. Ideally, it would have been easier to find one at the starbase since no one would have known who he was. Finding a woman on the ship was much harder. Especially with everyone avoiding him. He supposed being a slave and being Spock’s bodyguard was working heavily against him. He saw a few women who caught his eye, a young blond nurse by the name of Chapel, the long haired, dark skin beauty he had met in the gym, a weapon’s specialist named Marcus, and a yeoman named Rand. Two of them were already out. One was aiming for Spock who he rather not think about and the other was plain bat shit crazy. That and McCoy would be pissed if he slept with one of his nurses, and the doctor could be downright scary when he wanted to be.

He passed one of the rec rooms, hearing the excited chatter of the security officers. Bets were going around about how long it would take to hunt Sovik. The common bet was between 9 to 12 hours. The hunt would start three hours before sundown. Sovik would get a half hour head start. Jim hovered long enough to get an idea of who would be joining the hunt and what other bets were going. There was a bet on how many Sovik would take out before his death. While the average bet was five, Jim was thinking about double the amount. If it was Serik, he would have even said close to twenty. Sovik may be strong and fairly smart, but he had nothing on his brother in hand to hand combat. It may have been a different story if he had access to weapons. Jim could appreciate Sovik’s skill with a phaser pistol or rifle. Even his handiwork with a sword was impressive. But the chances of Sovik managing to get hold of a decent weapon early on would be doubtful. Sovik would die just as Jim described the night before.

“Here to place a bet?” A man, probably in his mid-thirties, spoke from behind him. He had curly brown hair and an average physique. Nothing really stood out when you looked at him, but Jim recognized him none the less.

“Not really, just seeing what the odds are.” He leaned against the wall, watching the others grow more and more rowdy. “So what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding Chris?”

The man frowned. “The captain is entertaining company.”

Jim chuckled. “Chris never changes. Can’t keep his dick in his pants. Must be hard working for that type of guy.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Probably not as hard as you though.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Inconvenient now, but still an improvement. What do you get working for that douchebag?”

Farrell looked around, ensuring no one was listening to their conversation. “Between you and me, I hate working for him. He doesn’t pay well, and I swear he intentionally pisses of everyone who hates him. I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell you why I don’t take a better offer.”

“Like rank.” The way Jim said it made Farrell pause, the sudden seriousness throwing him for a loop.

“Yeah,” he said uncertainly. “But he’s the captain, so he’s the safest bet to secure your position, so I put up with it.”

“Well, Mr. Farrell, I’ll let you know if a better job opens up for you.”

The man laughed. “Sure, if you can find one, I’m up for it.”

A woman entered, drawing Kirk’s attention. She had smooth pale skin and dark hair that stopped at her shoulders. Her uniform showed off her abs nicely, and the way she held herself was full of confidence and attitude.

Farrell caught his staring and shook his head. “Forget about it. She’s the captain’s woman. She’d never sleep with you unless she thinks she’ll get something out of it.”

“Well, never know unless you try,” with that he went to go try his luck.

* * *

 

It took a lot of work, but Spock managed to get permission from Pike to see Sovik. He was however unable to allow Serik the same opportunity. The younger twin held his disappointment well before saying it was better that way. Serik was wrung out with worry and anger, but he said not a word and kept working as if he wasn’t bothered. Spock felt guilty that he could not give him a chance to do what he himself had to do in his place.

The guards parted and let him into the brig where Sovik sat on the small bench in meditation. “Leave us,” Spock ordered. The guards did not move. Spock felt frustration at having his orders ignored until Sovik called out to him. “Commander, you did not have to come.”

“As your nu’ri trensu and your superior, it is my duty.”

Sovik opened his eyes, looking ahead of him. “I apologize. My temper has inconvenienced you yet again.”

“You were merely protecting me as you have always done for 25 years. It was just unfortunate that it was against the captain.”

Sovik looked at him, his eyes calmer than Spock had seen for the longest time. “And what is to be my fate?”

“A hunt. The captain seems quite set on humiliating you as he cannot get to me in the same manner without raising the attention of New Vulcan.”

Sovik nodded. “Then you are here for my katra.”

Spock nodded. “Yes. Serik would have been the more logical choice….”

“It is preferable. I recall my brother telling me on 649 occasions that my lack of control would be the cause of my demise over my lifetime. Now I may avoid him giving me the speech one last time.”

Spock’s lips twitched. He opened the hole in the force field with a device and put his hand through it. Sovik obediently brought his face to Spock’s hand, allowing him to place his fingers on his psi points. Silently, Spock retrieved Sovik’s katra. He felt the warm essence of Sovik’s katra enter his mind, felt his sadness, his happiness, and his regret.

When he pulled his hand away, Sovik smiled at him. “You have grown much nu’ri trensu. Your father would have been very proud of what you have become. My only regrets is that I cannot stay with you and that I was unable to teach you proper control. I am not proficient in the Vulcan way. I fear that I left too much of that responsibility to Serik.”

“You and Serik are my sa-mekh,” Spock whispered. “You have taught me much more important things over my lifetime and have performed admirably.”

Relief washed over Sovik’s face. “I am most honored for you to regard me with so much praise. Then I should say, live long and prosper, Spock.”

Spock couldn’t reply, he merely bowed his head, afraid that he would not be able to maintain his indifference if he were to speak. Sovik seemed to understand which made it all the more difficult to leave. Spock walked swiftly out of the brig, intending to pass Sovik’s katra to Serik. He should be able to do something. Why did he not have power to do something? He clenched his fists. Because he could not give up his position. He needed this position, and no matter how valuable Sovik was, he could not give it up for one Vulcan. Even understanding that, he could not help but recall Kirk’s words the previous night. Did it make him a coward to turn the other cheek? Did it make him weak? After this, he was starting to consider it.

* * *

 

The observation deck was a great place to read. Rarely, did anyone interrupt him. Occasionally, lovers would come for a quick fuck, but once spotting him, would leave. The large window showing the rushing stars almost made him feel free. Reading at his leisure, an allowance to use at his own will, never worrying about food and housing, it was almost a dream. These were things he never thought he could actually obtain. Jim closed the book in his lap to stare at the rushing stars. Space really suited him. It was cold and merciless, yet breath takenly beautiful.

“So this is where you were.”

Jim glanced over at the intruder, throwing him a glare. “You know, I came here because I wanted to be alone.”

“No such thing as being alone on this ship,” Sulu stopped a meter away, taking in the view as well. “I came to ask if you thought over my proposal.”

“Not at all,” he answered without hesitation.

A frown tugged at the corner of his lips, but tried to keep a pleasant smile. “I don’t really get why not. Given what’s happening with your master, I’d think now would be a perfect time to consider partnering up.”

Kirk closed his book. “If you weren’t such a conniving bastard, I might actually consider it, but since you are, I think I’m better off on my own.”

Sulu smile took a feral turn. “You really think Pike won’t come for you? He obviously hates your guts. So does 99% of everyone on this ship. It’s only a matter of time before someone comes to get rid of you.”

“Do you think I care?” Kirk’s own voice turned deadly. “You think I’m afraid of anyone on this ship? I’ve been in hell, I’ve faced down people a lot sneakier and stronger than you dumbshits.” He gracefully stood up from his seat, moving towards Sulu like a predator. “If you want to threaten me, make sure you can actually kill me. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself at the end of your own threat.”

Sulu sized him up. “Maybe I went about this the wrong way,” he said slowly. “If threats and asking nicely doesn’t work, then maybe I should go for something that interests you. Information on your brother perhaps?”

It was just a hint, but Sulu caught the interest in Jim’s eyes. “The bastard is probably dead.”

“The maybe something more informative? Your mother’s death records perhaps?”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “How would you have something like that?”

“I’m the Security Chief now. I have access to a lot of things.”

Jim smiled bitterly. “A position Chris gave you. Which makes me wonder what you had to do to get it at your age and why you’re turning on the person who gave it to you.”

“Maybe he screwed me over.”

“Or maybe you’re ambitious and impatient. If I remember correctly, you’re third in command now. If Chris and Spock dies, you become the new captain,” Jim challenged.

“Not captain. I’m not an idiot. The captaincy is dangerous. You live longer as the second officer, and you almost have just as much power. That is enough for now.”

“Sounds like something Spock would say,” he leaned back, clicking his tongue as he thought. “This isn’t a partnership,” he finally said. “You’re going to use me, so I’m going to use you. I’ll do things my own way, but I’m not following orders. Got it?”

Sulu gave a partial shrug. “It’s better than nothing.” He extended his hand.

“Also, I’m not getting into your schemes against Spock.”

With a polite business smile Jim didn’t trust, Sulu said readily, “Even if it’s you not interfering, I’ll still take it.”

“Fine.” Jim still didn’t shake his hand. He knew Sulu would turn on him in a heartbeat. He was a slave, so Sulu wouldn’t hesitate to kill him when he was done using him, but Sulu would learn that he wasn’t so easy to use.

Taking the turbolift, he went to deck five and down the hall. There was no doubt there was a group of security guards watching the hunt on screen in one of the small rec rooms. Normally the room was used for poker, but since there was a rare execution event, they had the screen on to watch. As he suspected, Farrell was still there. There was still an hour before the guard’s schedule shift. Subtly, he gained the man’s attention. Farrell looked between him and the screen and slowly extracted himself from the tight group, sucking in his stomach to squeeze past people. “What’s going on?” he asked. Assuming Jim was there on Spock’s orders.

“I think I know someone who can help you with your problem.”

* * *

 

Jim checked the stats on the hunt. It was in hour five now, and Sovik managed to kill five guards and gain a phaser as a weapon. The phasers held little juice for that specific reason. Sovik wouldn’t be able to use it for long, and given the rather low temperature on the planet, Sovik would more likely use the phaser to for heat just to keep himself alive. It was a losing battle really. Either the officers hunt him down and kill him or after the 24 hour mark, the _Enterprise_ will lock phasers and aim at his position killing him with a wide beam so he can’t escape. Of course there was always a chance of survival as long as he put up a fight, but chances were slim.

He entered deck five and walked to the captain’s quarters, nodding at Farrell who stepped aside. Jim thanked him. Not surprisingly, Chris had a woman on his lap, making out with her on his desk. The scene was a bit too similar for comfort so he knocked off what looked like a priceless, fragile antique off the shelf, letting it shatter upon impact. The woman, who Jim had found out earlier was named Marlena, jumped, covering her breasts with her hands, while Pike sent him a dark glare for interrupting.

“How’d you get in here,” he demanded, already grabbing for his phaser.

“Chill out Chris, I just wanted to talk to you.” He lifted his arms and turned around in a circle. “They even checked me for weapons before I came in.”

“Marlena, why don’t you come back in ten minutes while I deal with this child?” Pike didn’t take his eyes off him, and Jim didn’t take his eyes off him either. Marlena huffed, grabbing her shirt as she left, going into the attached bathroom. “So what do you want?”

“What do I want?” he asked, walking around the room, touching all the different trinkets. “Well, that’s a good question. I want a lot from you Chris, but it’s not like you’ll oblige.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To warn you.” Jim stopped by the edge of the desk. “Sulu is planning to kill you. He’s quite ambitious.”

“The fucking traitor,” Pike was grinding his teeth. “Should have known he was looking to move up.” He looked at Kirk with skepticism. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I want a favor.”

“This should be good,” Pike leaned back.

“Find a way to get the nanos Spock had injected into me out.”

Pike seemed to think it over considering the value of what Jim had given him for the request he was asking. “I’ll consider it. But no guarantees,” he finally said. He turned just slightly to reach for his communicator, his hand coming off the phaser for a fraction of a second to reach.

Jim made his move. He lurched forward with a sharp triangular Starfleet medal in his hand he had grabbed off the shelf, jamming it into Pike’s chest. Pike pushed him off, but the damage was done. The medal was protruding out of the center of his chest. Jim threw the phaser out of Pike’s reach when he tried to grab for it. Pike tried to intercept it, but ended up falling forward and off the desk, wheezing for air. “You really are an idiot Chris.” Jim said with condescension lacing his tone. “You actually believed I would ever ask you for anything?” He reached down and pulled the knife off Pike’s belt. The elder man was too weak to stop him, using all his strength to try to sit up.

Kirk kicked him onto his back. “Sorry, did I puncture your lung?” He asked, when all Pike could do was wheeze. “I didn’t mean to do anything quite so fatal. At least not right away.” He squatted next to him. “I didn’t want to let you die so easily. Not after what you did to her,” Jim sneered. He pressed the knife to Pike’s throat and slowly dragged it across, cutting into his jugular and spraying hot blood everywhere. “But we all can’t have what we want now can we?” He made sure to cut deep enough until the spinal cord was clearly visible.

“Mr. Farrell,” he called loudly, watching the last of Pike’s life slip away. “You can get Mr. Spock now.” He waited until Pike was dead before standing up. It was around that time that Marlena came out of the fresher due to the noise. She let out a small scream at the sight of him but made no attempts to run due to him being too close to the door and still armed.

A few minutes later, Spock came rushing through the door, two guards and Farrell behind him. Spock stopped at the entrance shocked at the sight of Jim. The human just turned to him, face perfectly black and his eyes dead but clear. His entire front was splattered with blood with no attempts to wipe it off his face. The look was the perfect image of a killer, not phased at all by what he did. It became even eerier when the blond cracked a smile at them. “That took you two minutes longer than I thought it would,” he commented casually.

Spock eyes drifted to the body. Spock didn’t even have to check to see if Pike was dead. It was fairly obvious. “Put down your weapon, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim dropped the bloodied knife, raising his hands and still as relaxed as ever. “What’s wrong Captain Spock? Isn’t assassination common on starships?”

“It is; however, they are rarely so brutal. Mr. Farrell, restrain Mr. Kirk."

“Yes sir,” Farrell went to handcuff Kirk, and Kirk just laughed.

“Should you really be wasting your time with me Spock?” he asked, but held out his hands to allow Farrell to cuff him. “You’re captain now, and it’s only hour five.” Jim watched as realization dawned on Spock. “If you hurry, you might just make it. After all, there should be nothing holding you back right?”

Farrell escorted Jim passed Spock, gaining several gasps from crewmembers once he entered the hallway. Spock took in the permanent shock and horror etched on the captain’s still face. Spock had speculated it was only a matter of time before someone tried to assassinate Pike, and Spock felt no anger or sympathy for him, but his death would cause him trouble. “Clean this mess up,” he ordered one of the other guards before turning to leave. He had a hunt to watch over after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sa-mehk - father
> 
> So yeah, the flow may be weird. Or maybe that's just me. Its 2am. Things look weird at 2 am. 
> 
> Comment minions. Please.


	11. Parental Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter. I wrote it in a day. In this day I was up 22 hours the previous day, had 3 1/2 hours of sleep, and was up continuously until now. There will probably be mistakes. I apologize because it may be worse than usual. On top of that, this is mostly backstory. Again, I apologize, but you guys get answers. Finally.

“Make it quick commander. Is there a reason for this call?”

“Admiral Marcus,” Spock greeted from a terminal in his room. “As per regulations require, I am informing you that Captain Pike has been assassinated, and I have assumed command of the _Enterprise._ ”

“So Pike finally kicked the bucket. He was always too lax whenever he gained the slightest bit of confidence in a situation,” Marcus rubbed his eyes. His eyes were red, and he was sporting a five o’clock shadow rather than being clean shaven as usual. “But this is something that could have been sent to headquarters via message. Why bother me about it?”

“I wish to request a new captain for the _Enterprise_ rather than make my rank permanent.”

Marcus laughed. “Really? I must say Commander, you are indeed one of a kind.” Marcus smiled. “Request denied.”

Spock sent him a Vulcan glare, though the admiral didn’t look perturbed at all. “Am I permitted to ask why?”

“I don’t want to do the paper work,” he said, resting his chin on his fist. “Simple as that. Besides, you’re the hero of the Empire. Everyone else might be intimidated having you as their second in command.”

“I would appreciate-“

“You’re captain now, Spock. Deal with it. People will kill for that position. Literally.” The admiral laughed at his own joke. “Now tell me who offed him and how, so I can make a note in the logs.”

Spock braced himself for the headache he was going to receive for the answer. “James Tiberius Kirk, assassinated him at 2224 hours by knife to the jugular in the captain’s quarters.”

Marcus couldn’t hide his grin though he tried. “So didn’t you order him to kill Pike?”

“No, sir. From what I can hypothesize with limited information, it was due to a personal grudge.”

“Alright, send the official report once the CMO finishes up. What do you plan to do with Kirk?”

“I have not decided. For now, he is in the brig.”

“Captain, let me give you some advice.” Marcus leaned forward into his seat. “Take him out of the brig, and act like you had a hand in the assassination.”

“Sir, I have not yet decided─”

“Trust me Spock, if you want to survive the captain’s seat, act like it. If it gets out that you can’t control your men, you’ll be seen as weak, and you’ll deal with more assassination attempts than you already will. Kirk can be an asset. You obviously saw that in him when you left the arena that day, claiming him as yours. You’re in Starfleet. This isn’t New Vulcan, and your title won’t save you now. Use Kirk, stand tall, and get your ass moving.”

Speechless, Spock could only say, “Yes, sir.”

Having figured the conversation over, Marcus cut off the line. While the conversation went about how Spock predicted it would, he still could not help but wish he had not been correct. The position was too much trouble. He estimated about five months until someone in Starfleet tried to “rectify” the problem with a 69% chance of something happening much sooner. To find a balance to prevent it would be near zero percent, but he’d have to try. Powering down the terminal, he stood up and left the room, PADD in hand.

On the turbolift, Spock checked the stats on the hunt, watching it go into the ninth hour on his PADD. His lips thinned. Fifteen more hours, he thought. The doors opened, and he stepped off the lift with purpose, keeping very sharp attention on his surroundings. The human guards who had started to follow him outside his room were struggling to keep up with his pace without running. He saluted the guards at his destination who saluted back, mumbling “captain,” under their breath reluctantly. He nodded, and they let him through to the brig.

Kirk seemed almost at home the way he looked relaxed in his cell. The same cell Sovik had been occupying just hours prior. Kirk cracked a blue eye open, laying down on the bench with his hands behind his head. “About time. Took you a few more hours than I thought you would.”

“You seem fascinatingly comfortable given your predicament,” Spock commented dryly.

“Fascinating? Do I fascinate you, Spock?” he almost purred sitting up. “I’m flattered. You usually reserve that word for the labs.” He cracked a smile. “Then again, I am nothing but an experiment to you anyway. Besides, this cell is almost like home. Just needs more stones, dirt, and mold.”

Spock stared down Kirk, trying to read him. With a motion with his hand, the guards left him alone with the human. “I do not understand how you can joke, Mr. Kirk. You have assassinated the captain.”

“You and I both know that I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s how you people go up rank. The only difference is, I’m not coward enough to rely on a phaser to keep it clean like most of you pussy elites.” He titled his head. “But not you. We both know you’re willing to cover your hands in blood and not faze you in the slightest.”’

He seemed borderline insane, as if this was not the man Spock had known for the past 2 months. He wondered how much of it was an act. “I did not give you the order, Mr. Kirk. But before I figure out how to handle you, I want to know the history between you and Captain Pike.”

The humor left Kirk, and the cold dead look creeped back into his eyes, yet his voice still seemed carefree as he responded. “I don’t think explaining it would help much. You’re the man who still hasn’t called off the hunt. I doubt there is a shred of humanity in that body of yours. You just wouldn’t be able to comprehend why even if I told you.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Nothing is certain until it is at least attempted once.”

Jim stood up, walking slowly and sensually to the invisible barrier. “Why do you want to know Spock? Hoping that if I open my heart to you, you can get into my pants? Not that you needed my permission before you jumped me.”

He looked Spock up and down. “I don’t do men, but maybe I’ll do you. If you offer me something good of course.” He slipped his hand under his shirt, lifting the hem tantalizingly slow, showing off his well-defined abs little by little. Spock’s eyes darted down to the skin. “How about it Spock?”

“I am well aware of your habit to seduce people in order for them to do as you wish, but it will not work on me. Nor will it work as a distraction. Answer my question.”

“If you ask me, it’s you avoiding the topic.” Even so, Kirk stepped away from the barrier. “You’re the one who suddenly freaked out in the middle.”

“Mr. Kirk,” Spock said with warning.

Kirk poorly hid his sneer, turning away from Spock. Spock waited for the human to answer, watching him pace in the cell. He knew that Kirk was aware that he would have to answer, and it was more caging to Kirk than the cell.

Finally, he stopped pacing, looking Spock in the eye. “Tell me what Sovik and Serik mean to you, and I’ll answer.”

Spock inhaled slowly, growing short on patience. “I do not believe you understand the predicament you are in. You cannot make demands.”

“And I don’t think you’ll understand why I did it. So I want to know. They obviously mean something to you, yet you are always reluctant to save them. In fact. It’s because of me that they’re alive in the first place, so I think you actually owe me for it.”

Spock regarded him. He could always force the information out of Kirk. They both knew it which made him wonder why Kirk didn’t seem afraid of that. Why did the human keep challenging him? Why the misplaced pride and anger? His first instinct was to take it from him as his patience had been worn thin by the massive problems Kirk’s action will cause. He didn’t need Kirk. Nothing was coming out of keeping him, yet he could not help but think that killing him, or breaking his mind, would be a waste. McCoy’s advice had been surprisingly effective, but he was unsure of when the courtesy stopped and the ruthless superior began.

But no one was here, and no one would see him give in, but Kirk would have a dangerous leg up on him if he did.

“If you repeat this information or acknowledge it in anyway, I will destroy your mind and harm anyone you have associated with, including Doctor McCoy and Montgomery Scott. Is that understood?”

“Sure, whatever,” Kirk sat down, almost as if waiting for a story.

Spock shifted his stance, the only sign that he was uncomfortable. “When I was three, shortly after the destruction of Vulcan, Sovik and Serik were assigned to protect and raise me. Due to circumstances, there was no one else to take over the position.”

“So they’re like your nannies?” the way Jim asked made him seem either skeptically or disbelieving.

“That is one way of describing it, but if anyone asked, I would call them my fathers. My personal feeling however does not change the fact they are in fact my bodyguards and that is their primary function. Given our stations and statuses among our people, we must act our positions, and I must treat them impartially. I must put the Vulcans’ interest as top priority as they must make me theirs.”

“What do you mean by Vulcan interest? And what is your status?"

“I believe I have answered your question, Mr. Kirk. It is your turn to answer mine.”

Kirk lost some of the energy he had regained from discovery a bit of Spock’s story, becoming almost lethargic as he leaned back against the wall staring at the ceiling. “Pike was friends with my dad. Good friends supposedly. They knew each other at Starfleet Academy. My mom would always say really good things about him when she told me about my dad’s adventures in Starfleet. I’d ask her every night to tell me those stories. Every night a new adventure, and Pike was always there at my dad’s side,” he smiled gently at the memory, the only real softness Spock had ever seen in him. “My mom was beautiful, smart, and hardworking. She went on the run the moment my father was branded as a traitor. With her few years of Starfleet training, she knew how to avoid them, and she kept us in hiding. We were extremely poor, but she made sure I never went hungry and showed me the brightest smile all the time. She wanted to make sure that I grew up happy even if she worked all the time, taking questionable jobs.” His smile faltered. “But it just wasn’t enough to get by.

“When I was six, the year 2239, Pike somehow found her. At first, he was nice. He gave me a toy phaser, asked to be let in to just talk, saying he wanted to help.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I honestly didn’t understand most of it. I was a kid, and it was a long time ago. I remember that he was looking for something. Something of my dad’s. I don’t know what, but my mom said she didn’t know. Pike didn’t like that answer.

“She told me to leave the house, but Pike produced a phaser and said to me that if I left, he’d kill her. So I stayed put, too scared to do anything. He asked her again, and she again said no. Then he turned to violence. Beating her, cutting her, but she still didn’t say anything. Finally, he resorted to raping her.”

Jim’s voice was steady as if he had told the story hundreds of times before, but it felt dead. Flat. His eyes looked lost in the memory, staring unseeingly in front of him. “He raped and beat her for three days, locking us in our own house, breaking her down until she would tell him what he wanted to know, and I never left the room. If I had to piss, it was in a corner in a damn vase. My mom couldn’t even do that much. She couldn’t even walk.” His eyes focus on Spock’s face. “I remember every scream, every cry, every plea she made, and I remember Pike’s face as he broke her. Eventually Pike got what he was after and left, saying that as my dad’s friend, he wouldn’t tell the empire where we were. He made it sound like he was doing us a fucking favor.

“My mom was never the same. She tried to keep her smiles, the brightness that always made me feel safe, but there was just something broken in her after that. I could see how guilty she felt every day. Guilt over not being able to get me an education, or even something basic like a PADD so I could learn on my own. Guilt for not being able to keep me from working at a young age just to help keep us fed and sheltered. At some point, she resorted to whoring herself out to make meets ends.” He smiled bitterly. “Or maybe she also had been, and I just didn’t figure it out because I was too young, but after what he did to her, she really did believed every degrading comment he and everyone else spat at her.”

“What happened to her?” Spock asked.

With a half shrug, Kirk stood. “She continued protecting me until I was sixteen, after that . . . her body was just too frail. She couldn’t protect herself, and she was sick a lot. One day, she just disappeared. Maybe she got kidnapped coming home, maybe she died in the brothel and they discarded her body in the trash. I don’t know. No one would care enough to identify her body, meaning there’d be no death certificate. If she does have one, I can’t go look it up without an ID.” He smiled a bit. “I kind of hope she abandoned me actually. I like to think she’s out there somewhere, healthy and finally having a chance to live her life without some brat holding her back, but she’s wouldn’t do that,” his voice trailed off.

Suddenly he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re the first person I ever told that story to. Figures I’d spill my past to a damn robot. Human attachment is probably far beyond you.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Kirk. I find I envy you.” Before Spock could be questioned about that, he asked. “Were you threatening to reveal that Captain Pike knew the location of an empire fugitive for many years on the bridge?”

“Yeah. Shut him up quick didn’t it.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. Spock walked the short distance to the console in the center of the room and bent over to disable the force field. “As of now, I had ordered you to kill Captain Christopher Pike, the reason being for lying to the empire in his reports about how much money he had looted and was sending the money to questionable locations that was potentially for rebel use. The reason I had ordered your imprisonment was due to the sloppy nature of the assassination which made me question your loyalties.”

Jim stepped out of his cell, eying Spock’s ass. “You don’t have to do all that.”

“If we both wish to live the next 48 hours, yes, I do.” Spock straightened. “As punishment for your discretions, you will be put into the agony booth for three durations on separate days. Doctor McCoy will watch over you to ensure you do not go into cardiac arrest.”

“Comforting,” the human said sarcastically, but there was a tinge of discomfort in his tone at the thought of having to go to the booth.

“You will be confined to quarters until you have completed your punishment.”

“Okay,” Kirk still seemed nonchalant about the punishment, so on the fly, Spock added one more punishment.

“In addition, your lessons and access to my personal library will be suspended for a month. Including your Personal Access Display Device.”

That seemed to get Kirk’s attention. “Aw, come on, not my PADD! I got ten new books from the computer banks I haven’t read yet,” it came out as a whine and reminded Spock of a Terran child. However, the cold, distant demeanor Kirk had been displaying had diminished to a mere shadow and replaced by behavior Spock was more familiar with.

“If your behavior and work is adequate, perhaps the sentence will be reduced to two weeks; however, you have to perform exceptionally for it be considered.”

Kirk was outright pouting, grumbling and calling Spock derogatory names under his breath. “That’s cheating, you know.” Jim went towards the door and stopped short, glancing back at Spock. “I’m straight you know. Unless you force me, I’m not sleeping with you.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the sudeen change in subject, and Jim got the distinct impression he was amused. “And yet, you did not once ask me to stop.”

Jim smiled bitterly. “Goodnight, Captain Spock.” Jim walked out the door, and Spock ordered one of his bodyguards to follow him back and make sure he was confined to quarters. It was now time to move onto the next obstacle.

* * *

Sovik was breathing heavily, glancing at the phaser wound to his leg. The makeshift bandage was basically green with blood, but the blood flow had definitely slowed. He hadn’t expected to last as long as he had. After the injury to his thigh, he was almost certain he would be caught within the hour. It had been three since. In addition, after defeating 13 of his opponents, he had expected more to appear and for his hunters to attack more aggressively over the loss of their comrades. Instead, the numbers were thinning, the attacks less frequent. It was nearing the 24 hour mark now. His death was nigh. Pike will kill him with the _Enterprise_. The planet, while heavy in foliage, had no natural magnetic pockets to confuse the _Enterprise_ ’s sensors. He was too injured to move far anyway. Besides his leg, he had two broken ribs, a disrupted eardrum, an additional phaser wound to his shoulder, a concussion, and a cracked cheekbone and jaw. The temperature had dropped to near freezing during the night, forcing him to use the phasers he had collected to keep himself warm. All but one was useless, and there were approximately three shots left.

Sitting, waist deep in mud, he restrained a shiver. He had fallen into a ditch and had been unable to get out. The mud was sapping his body heat, but he just couldn’t move. He could hear someone approach. They were close since he could only hear out of his one ear. They were cautious, but still seemed desperate in looking for him. Shortly, Sovik heard an additional set of footsteps. It was much closer and much softer than the first. That one would find him soon, and from the way he was approaching, he was the one Sovik had to be warier of. They would find him in approximately 47 seconds.

At least he had the chance to talk to Spock. He had been worried that he would not have had the chance to see him before being sent down to the planet. Spock had grown up well. He was proud of that. Despite Serik's reassurances when they were ordered to take care of him, he was afraid he would screw it up. Serik had disliked Spock in the beginning, having a dislike of young children, but Sovik had grown attached rather quickly. Spock cried so much as a child and was very emotional and unaware of how to control his growing telepathic powers. In addition, the child had no bonds whatsoever, all destroyed or too weak to maintain. Spock reminded him of a younger version of himself. He had held Spock whenever he had nightmares or cried, initiating melds to put him at peace enough to sleep.

Serik grew attached when he had to take upon the duty to teach Spock control, spending hours with the child to teach him the mental disciplines, and eventually creating secret parental bonds with him to help stabilize his young mind that was craving for a connection to anyone. It was one of the few times Sovik had to scold Serik for being sentimental. Soon after, Sovik formed a bond with him too. Spock had to learn control from two Vulcans who were self-taught, and though not perfect, Spock did a decent job adjusting to compensate his unique heritage and the difficulties that came with it. He admired Spock for that. Though Spock began to prefer Serik due to his younger brother’s emotional control and stability, though Spock took his responsibility seriously and distanced himself so he could efficiently fulfill his duties, he was proud. Spock grew up into an heir Vulcan needed. But unfortunately, Vulcan did not deserve him. He hated that his overprotectiveness had put Spock into difficult positions. Spock probably thought himself to be looking after Sovik rather than the opposite. His complicated relationship between parent and servant with Spock was something Sovik would never trade.

He did regret not seeing his brother. They had been together their entire lives. They had trained together, worked together, and dealt with their Romulan blood together. He had wished to see him one last time. The only comfort he had was that Spock would give his katra to Serik. He wished to apologize for causing Serik to worry constantly. The Vulcan way was not for him. Serik knew that, and never criticized him for the inability to perfect it. He was one of two who did not mind he was not perfectly Vulcan and accepted him.

He gripped the phaser tightly in his hand, aiming for the spot one of the men were approaching. The man stopped where just his phaser was visible. Sovik took the shot anyway. The man dropped the phaser, shortly before an explosion went off caused from the destroyed power pack. Sovik couldn’t stand but crawled away as quickly as he could as a grenade was thrown into the ditch. It went off, the blast slightly contained because of the thick mud, but the shockwave still threw him forward. His head was spinning, but he still aimed where he heard them approach, checking to confirm his death. His aim was off due to his unsteady vision, shooting the shoulder of one and the leg of the other. That was that. His phaser was drained dry, and the 24 hours was up. He heard them cursing but couldn’t understand it. His injuries was making him lose consciousness or perhaps his other eardrum was disrupted from the explosion so he just couldn’t hear anything.

He waited for the moment he was put out of his misery, counting down until either the _Enterprise_ or the men killed him. The last thing he registered was the pull of the transporter on his body.

Sovik emerged onto the transporter pad. McCoy was at his side in an instant with a tricorder, barking orders to two male nurses to get him on a stretcher. Spock watched, categorizing the visible injuries. None seemed permanent. Relief washed over him. Serik was beside him, watching with hawk like attention as they moved his brother’s body. “You may go to him,” Spock said quietly, but Serik shook his head.

“It is my duty to be by your side, especially with the high amount of assassination attempts that will follow the next week.”

Spock couldn’t disagree. He could only trust Serik and Sovik to never be bribed and have no alternative motives to guard him. Having Serik at his side was the better decision.

“His katra will need to be eventually returned. We will go together then.”

Serik nodded and said nothing else.

“Place guards on Sovik. Those you trust.”

Serik nodded, pulling out his communicator and making orders to the security team. Spock watched the door close behind the medical personal and found himself whispering, “Welcome back, sa-mehk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> It occurs to me Kirk may be a psychopath....oops.


	12. Dignitaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should stop updating in the middle of the night.

Spock made the announcement at 0600 and informed the entire ship that Captain Pike had passed away and that he had assumed command. From the moment Spock stepped onto the bridge in his new captain’s uniform, he could sense the malicious intent in the air.  Serik kept a watchful eye on the entire bridge as Spock took the center seat. 

But the bridge wasn’t where he needed to worry. No, majority of the time, the crew wanted to keep the glory to themselves and worked in small numbers so the rewards were bigger and fewer people could pinpoint the attackers and get revenge. No, the bridge was safe. It was the less populated areas he had to worry about.

He felt the eyes of the crew members on him, and he pretended he didn’t notice, only telling them to get back to work if they did it for a prolonged length of time, and surprisingly the bridge shift went rather smoothly.  As their current mission was to chart some stars, it gave him time to go through the large pile of paperwork Pike had neglected.  He barely made a dent when the shift ended.

With the intention to return to his room to finish packing his belonging so they could be moved to the captain’s quarters, Spock left his shift. His plans were derailed however when he saw McCoy waiting outside with his PADD, looking impatient.

“May I ask why you are outside my quarters, Doctor?”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “At least invite me in before interrogating me, or I can give you Sovik’s medical report in the hall for all to hear.”

Spock entered the code for his room while Serik checked McCoy for weapons or poisons of any kind. McCoy grumbled the entire time, but didn’t protest either. Spock’s room was full of boxes containing priceless artifacts from Vulcan and places that were visited during his travels. Only a few items were left unpacked, mostly old reports he had to review.

Soon enough, McCoy was cleared and was allowed in. “Speak quickly, Dr. McCoy. There is much work that needs my attention.”

“Do you think it’s a pleasure for me, bastard?” The doctor crossed his arms. “Sovik will live by the way. Though, he would be in better shape if you had called off the hunt.”

“You know very well Doctor why that was not a suitable option,” Spock replied.

McCoy lost a bit of attitude at the comment. “Anyway, Sovik fell into a healing trance about two hours ago. I give it about half a day to a day.”

“Something I’m already aware of Doctor. Is there another reason for this visit?”

Spock could see it was taking everything for McCoy not to retort. “I also came to inform you that Kirk has finished his first duration and is in his room resting.”

“I fail to see the purpose of informing me if all three are not complete.”

“Oh cut the crap already. We both know that the kid did all of us a favor. Even you started to dislike him towards the end.  This punishment is ridiculous, and you know it.”

Spock sat in the desk chair, steepling his fingers as he gave his full attention to the doctor.  His dark eyes had an intensity that sent shivers up McCoy’s spine. “Are you attached to him, Dr. McCoy? Enough so you’d ask for a reduction in his sentence on his behalf.”

“I’m not attached!” he snapped, but it was a thin lie. 

“Your sentimentally and emotionalisms will get you killed doctor.” McCoy looked away. “Your attachment to him aside, I cannot pardon him from his punishment when it is known that he had disobeyed me.”

“It’s because of him that you have Sovik and Serik still here in the first place. You could show some gratitude.”

“Sovik and Serik are my servants and subordinates. Nothing more, nothing less.”  

McCoy ground his teeth, glaring at the Vulcan. “I’m going to pretend you’re not spewing horse shit and try to be reasonable with you. I get that you have to be cold and heartless as captain, but I’ve been around you, the twin cyborgs, and the kid long enough to know better. I’ve also kept a lot of secrets for you. So at least give me the decency to not be as big of an asshole as you pretend to be.”

“I could take that as a threat doctor.”

“That’s it! I give up! Be an asshole for all I care, but don’t expect me to help cover for you anymore.” The doctor stormed out of the room, flicking Serik the middle finger as he passed.

“Sir? Should I keep an eye on him as well?” Serik asked, peeking his head into the room.

“He is smart enough not to work against me. He is known for his exaggerations. He is highly emotional when it concerns Mr. Kirk. That is all.” Spock swiveled in his chair to organize the last bit of the reports before he had one of the guards move his things. As he worked, he thought of the things he would have to finish by the end of the ship day.

After an hour, he called in Serik to bring someone in to move his things.  While Serik handled the move, Spock headed to the labs with his human bodyguards.  Spock mentally kept track of their position behind him, counting down. When they turned into the corridor leading to the unpopulated section of the ship, he dodged a knife aimed at his lower back. Spock grabbed the knife hand, pulling the human forward into the wall, while kicking the phaser out of the other guard’s hand.  Using a hand to quickly Vulcan pinch the one whose body had bounced off the wall, he barely dodged the swipe of the knife of the other attacker. Spock released the now unconscious guard and drew his own knife, blocking the next attack.  Putting distance between them, Spock threw his knife into his opponents left shoulder, causing the guard to leave himself open for a brief second. Spock quickly disarmed him, taking the knife from him and flipping him onto the floor. With a swift movement, Spock jammed the knife further into his shoulder and twisted.

The man screamed in pain, cradling his wounded shoulder as Spock stood up, taking out his communicator.

“Well, I was going to help you out but you took care of it quite well, Captain.”

“Lieutenant Sulu, it is unusual for you to be in this part of the ship.” Spock commented, retrieving his knife.

“I was looking for you actually. I wanted to talk to you about the vacant First Officer position,” Sulu casually walked over and kicked the wounded man’s shoulder. “It’s good to know you can take care of yourself. It makes my job easier.”

“I will make my choice known when I have given it sufficient thought. And if I recall, Mr. Sulu, you have a substantial amount of work as Chief of Security already. The additional workload of First Officer would be detrimental to your efficiency of your current position.”

“I think you underestimate me, Captain. You’ll find that I am _efficient_ at handling both. Though, if you’re that concerned, you could always hand the Security Chief position to someone else.” Sulu’s smile seemed challenging.

Spock didn’t rise to it. “I will inform you of my decision once it has received the proper consideration it deserves,” Spock repeated. “And repeated attempts to make an alliance with Mr. Kirk will not persuade me to consider you for the position if I have cause to believe you will betray me at first opportunity.”

Sulu’s smile fell, and his body became defensive.

“Surprise is hardly called for, Mr. Sulu. While my information network has been slightly compromised as of late, I do keep tabs on my people and their loyalties. Mr. Kirk is a high liability. It is only logical that I am aware of where he stands and who he associates with.”

“Your right as always Captain Spock,” Sulu conceded, no longer friendly. “But you can’t blame me for taking precautions to secure my future.”

“No, Mr. Sulu. I cannot. However, it does not mean I will continue to allow you to do as you please against me either.”

Spock walked past Sulu. “Take these men to the brig and have them carry out their execution in the agony booth unless Doctor McCoy requires another test subject.”

“You don’t want them interrogated, sir?” The address was forced and Spock paused long enough to consider the question. “I know who sent them; however, if you feel you can retrieve additional information, you may indulge yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Spock proceeded to the labs. Serik would come to him once he was finished. For now, he would lock himself in his office to prevent further attempts on his life so he could finally work in peace.

* * *

 Three days of torture really does feel like forever. At least that was how Jim felt.  He was weak, tired, and irritable, but at least he was no longer confined to quarters. Unexpectedly, the one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about was his libido.  Maybe it was because he hadn’t been laid since he was captured and that kiss with Spock reminded him of that. Maybe it was some strange side affect from the booth, being in a state of pain for long, he wanted pleasure. Who knew? But as he sat in the mess hall with a bowl of oatmeal and a plate of various breakfast meats, he couldn’t help but stare at every woman who passed, judging whether he should pursue it or not.

“I wouldn’t waste my time, kid. They’d never go for you.”  McCoy jabbed him with his elbow, encouraging him to eat.

Jim let out a long sigh. “Way to crush my dreams of getting laid, Bones.”

“Believe me, I’m doing you a favor.” McCoy tried to take a sausage, but his hand was slapped away.

Jim went back to looking over the woman. Many were sitting around Spock, nearly draping themselves all over him. Some even going to far as to pour his tea and try to feed him breakfast. “What do they see in him anyway?”

“Nothing but his rank. Joke’s on them. That computer hasn’t taken on a lover since being on the _Enterprise_. And I revise my previous statement from before. Forget the never been laid thing. I don’t think he’s even kissed anyone.”

“He sure as hell doesn’t kiss like a virgin,” he murmured. Jim must have said it louder than he thought because the doctor was looking at him like he had grown a second head. “You know, you know a lot of gossip. I mean really? You know his sex life?”

“The nurses like to gossip,” he defended, stabbing his breakfast. “Besides, people like to talk when they’re drugged out of their mind.”

“You have issues,” Jim chuckled but pushed his food away. “Seriously though, I need to get laid.”

“Sorry, Jimbo, but not many of the ladies are going to want to do you without something in it for them.”

The thought of being stuck with his right hand for company really wasn’t appealing. Trying to distract himself, he tried to think of a reason why Spock was in the mess hall at all. Spock rarely visited the mess hall and took his meals in his room, having a personal replicator to make his meals. And by the small tick in Spock’s left eye, he wasn’t enjoying the excess company either. Was Spock gay? Or did he just not like people touching him? Nah, he probably just liked a challenge. Those women couldn’t offer him one. They couldn’t handle it rough. Not like he could.

The kiss Spock forced on him came back to the forefront of his thoughts. It was then Jim decided it wasn’t good for his health to stay in the mess hall. “I’m heading out. You’re not going to throw a fit if I hit the gym will you?”

“Only if you promise to keep your heart rate down. Three durations in that contraption is no joke.”

“I just plan to hit the bag a couple times. Promise.” With a slap on the doctor’s back, Jim left, not noticing dark brown eyes follow him out.

Jim was wondering whether finding a sparring partner was a good idea since he’d resume his lessons with Serik in the morning when he saw the Vulcan in question heading towards him. Doing the logical thing, Jim stopped and turned on his heel, hoping to get away.

“Mr. Kirk.”

Well shit, he thought, stopping in his tracks and rolling his eyes. “I’m off duty until tomorrow, Serik. What do you want?”

“It is about tomorrow’s duties. There has been an unexpected development and I ….wish to ask a request from you.”

Curious, he turned slowly. “A request. From you,” he asked skeptically. “And what can this lowly human guard do for the almighty Serik.”

Serik didn’t give anything away about what he was feeling. Unlike Spock and Sovik, Serik was hard to read. His face was a blank slate, and Jim swore the only facial muscles he used were the ones required to talk or blink. Today though, Jim sensed that Serik was rethinking his decision to ask him for something, if not given through his expression then by his hesitation. “May we speak in private?”

Jim scratched his head, too tired to deal with him or anyone at this point. “No one’s around. Speak fast, and it’ll be private.”

For a second, there was a flash of anger in his eyes, something more intense than he had ever seen in Spock’s.  Jim had to stop himself from instinctively looking for a weapon. And just as fast, it was gone. Serik glanced around the hall, before saying, “Very well. Tomorrow morning, there will be an arrival of several diplomats. It was Captain Pike’s duty to escort them from the Laurentian System to the moon Andoria. Due to the fact that it has only been approximately 80 hours since Captain Spock has taken command of the ship, I ask that you double your shift for the next three days to ward off any additional assassination attempts. In exchange, I will grant you any request as long as it is within acceptable parameters.”

The request took him by surprise to say the least. “Why me? You hate me.”

“Despite what I think of you, Mr. Kirk, you have proven to be quite useful. When Sovik and I were unable to be at Commander Spock’s side, you managed to not only cover fifteen hour shifts continuously for two weeks without fail, you are very efficient in your duties in protecting the captain.  In addition, your instinct for fighting and assessing threats is rather convinient.”

It took a second before a smile crossed the young man’s face. “Well that’s unexpected. You’re worried about him.”

“He’s my master.”

Jim gave him an all knowing smile. “Of course he is, Serik.” Jim leaned against the wall, staying silent as an officer walked past.  “Give me your PADD for a second.”

Serik was silent for a moment, but did as he was told, handing it over.

Humming, Kirk scribbled something on the screen then handed it back.

Serik took it, quickly reading the note. “This is what you desire?”

“Yup, I can’t afford it, but I have a feeling you can.”

Serik stared a while longer. “It will take some time to acquire. It requires special transport.”

“That’s fine. I can wait. What time do I need to be ready?”

“0400.”

“I’ll be there. And don’t worry,” Jim smile took a deadly edge. “I’ll protect your precious, nu’ri-trensu.”

Serik’s hand shot out, wrapping strong fingers around Jim’s throat and slamming him against the wall. Unlike Sovik, who would have shown his displeasure in the corners of his face, Serik was like stone, yet the intensity wafting off him was unmistakable. “Is that a threat?” Serik asked without intonation.

“Not at all,” he wheezed, but Jim kept his gaze steady and didn’t allow Serik to intimidate him a second time. “After all, if Spock dies, I die.”

Serik pulled away, putting his hands behind his back as if they had been there the entire time. “Then I will keep you to your word.” The Vulcan left, leaving Jim to contemplate on Serik’s behavior. Out of the three of them, Serik seemed to be the one out of place, and yet Serik seemed the one to mostly match the description of Vulcan’s Jim had been told of. And yet Serik was only half Vulcan while Spock was full. Serik’s actions were always logical. Even his reaction to Jim’s baiting was logical. Intimidate the target to dissuade him of his goals. It wasn’t out of anger, unlike Sovik’s reactions. Vulcans were known to be emotionless. Yet Spock was not emotionless. No, he may act like it, and he hid it well, but they were there. So were Vulcan’s taught to be emotionless and Serik and Sovik did poorly in teaching Spock, or was Spock not what he seemed to be?

* * *

Spock stood in his dress uniform, arms behind his back. Due to the situation, Spock had opted to wear his science officer dress uniform rather than the captain’s. Beside him stood Serik and Kirk. He was rather surprised to see Kirk on duty though secretly pleased. The amount of assassination attempts the past three days had been tiresome, and his human guards had proved to be rather incompetent at stopping them. Or perhaps the true problem was that Serik, Sovik, and Kirk had proved to be superior in their abilities to assess and solve situations, making the others incompetent in comparison.

Currently they were in the hanger, greeting guests as they came. “Ambassador Gov, I welcome you to the _ISS Enterprise_. I pray that your trip was comfortable.”

The Tellerite ambassador snorted. “I thought you humans knew how to treat guests. Not even the Klingons would force me to share a shuttle with that Vulcan dignitary woman.”

As if on cue, three additional figures descended the steps of the shuttle.

“I apologize for your discomfort. Your quarters are on opposite sides of the ship and the banquet this evening is only optional. Should you wish to not interact with the ambassadors, you may take your meal in your room upon your request.”

The Tellerite snorted, this time in amusement. “It’s about time I met a Starship captain who shows some respect. Perhaps there should be more Vulcan starship captains if they are more like you.”

“I am honored by your words. Yeoman Rand will lead you to your quarters, Ambassador.”

The Tellerite laughed, walking away and following the yeoman in a much better mood than when he arrived. Spock turned to address the last dignitary. A woman with long brown hair was followed by two Vulcan bodyguards, one male and one female. The woman was dressed in Vulcan garb complimented with a light golden brown scarf that she wore like a hood, covering her ears and most of her hair.

The two guards stopped when she stopped and proceeded to take a knee in Spock’s presence, head bowed and displaying the ta’al proudly. The greeting lasted only a moment before they righted themselves and took position as guards once again.

Spock in turn took off his right glove and showed them a ta’al bowing his head slightly to the dignitary. “Lady Amanda. You grace us with your presence. “

Kirk, who had been standing a foot away from Spock, chanced a glance at Spock’s face, shocked by the pure emotionless tone and face. It was like Serik’s. Upon further inspection, the other Vulcans in the room shared a similar stony expression.  Minus the woman in the center, who seemed bored rather than stoic.

“I was under the impression that Captain Pike would be hosting this event. I am rather concerned that will not be the case.”

“I guarantee that you will be safe my lady. I have prepared rooms for you and your guards to rest in for the duration of your journey. Like the other ambassadors, there will be a banquet tonight if you wish to join.”

“I will consider your offer,” the woman said. The woman followed her escort to her quarters, the male guard close behind her.

The female guard stepped forward and bowed once again. “Nu’ri-trensu, T’Pau sends greetings  and a reminder that she is waiting upon Serik’s report on your wellbeing.” The guard glanced at Serik who bowed his head to her in greetings as well.

“You may borrow Serik so he may give his report to you in full.” Spock sent a look to Serik who nodded.

“This way,” Serik stepped forward and led the young Vulcan woman away.

“Mr. Kirk.” At the sound of his name, Kirk straightened up, reigning in his curiosity. “I will have you accompany me during the meetings with the diplomats and dignitaries. I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m not stupid you know,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“My experience with you would indicate otherwise.” Spock turned on his heel, catching the word “asshole” from the human’s lips. Even with the young man’s attitude, Spock felt notable safer with him than his other human bodyguards, and it wasn’t because he knew Kirk’s survival depended on his own. He was a good bodyguard and intelligent to boot. He could not claim that most of the security department had both traits. After giving orders to Scotty to have the shuttles inspected, he started at the top of the list.

* * *

 A good portion of the day was spent talking to each group of ambassadors who had arrived. If Jim was honest, it was more tiring than his normal duties. He had to stay perfectly still and at attention nearly the entire time, and most of the talks were polite small talk or political commentary, things Jim couldn’t care less about. And he didn’t think he was the only one exhausted from it either.

Spock kept the same blank expression from the shuttle bay the entire time, and Jim couldn’t read him at all. It was eerie. He could normally read something from him, but today there was nothing. Serik eventually rejoined them sometime in the middle of the day, but Jim didn’t know when. All Jim knew was by the time dinner rolled around, he was starving.

Which sucked since he had to watch everyone else eat while he stood behind Spock’s chair. He hadn’t eaten since the extremely early breakfast he had before he had to meet Spock at the shuttle bay that morning.

They were in a room with a large round table. Majority of the dignitaries were there, engaging in small talk. Spock spoke politely, but his stoic face seemed to make several of them uncomfortable. From what Jim had noticed earlier, a lot of them seemed wary of Spock and any other Vulcan around them, slightly fearful yet condescending.  Ambassador Gov appeared to be the only one willing to boldly talk to Spock without restraint.

“I say it’s about time a Vulcan became a starship captain,” Ambassador Gov announced, his snout twitching. “Not argumentative and actually reasonable.”

“Oh please,” an Andronian ambassador scoffed. “A Vulcan will most likely orchestrate your death behind clever words. The only loyalty they have is to the Empire and even then I am sure it is only because they lack the numbers.”

“Indeed,” Lady Amanda spoke, taking a sip of her drink. “Vulcans have quite the silver tongue. With addition to being as smart as a computer, having the strength of three men, and a history of violence and bloodshed, it’s amazing anyone could ever believe they tried to be docile.” She didn’t pause in cutting into her meal as she spoke.  “A good leash and a proper master does them well.”

Jim looked at Spock who didn’t even seem fazed by the commentary at the table. He supposed Spock was rather used to it. In fact, none of the Vulcans in the room looked offended or seemed to be feeling anything in general.

“I assure you ambassadors that Vulcan has and always will be loyal to the empire. It is unfortunate that the Romulan Nero has shaken the people of the empire’s belief that this will ever change,” Spock responded.

“I think you misunderstand, Captain.” The woman who spoke was old. With wrinkled mocha skin and fine silver hair, she moved with an air of dignity around her and her soft voice held an authority that captured everyone’s attention. “Vulcans have and never will be trusted. You are far too dangerous to be left unchecked, and a starship gives one too much power.”

“With all due respect, Councilor Andregosa, the Vulcans are a broken race. If continued on our present course, the Vulcan race will most likely die out within the next 250 years. So you may rest assured, that one Vulcan with one starship will never betray the empire. It would be unproductive and illogical.”

“That may be what you think, Vulcan, but a desperate species tends to make desperate decisions,” the old woman stood. “I will be retiring. If you have need for me captain, send a messenger. I do not desire to see you or your half breed servants.”

Spock bowed his head. “As you wish, Councilor.”

She left without looking at Spock or further acknowledging him, and an uneasy silence filled the room.

“My meal has lost its taste as well. I too shall retire for the evening,” Lady Amanda stood as well. “Good night captain.”

Silently another three dignitaries quickly deserted the table, not even mumbling an excuse. Spock pretended not to notice, instead engaging Ambassador Gov with talks about the Tellerite trading system.

“Excuse me, your highness,” a being with porcelain skin, long dark green hair, and a body of a seven your old child stood. His voice was child like as well, but something about him made him seem much older than he looked.  “Forgive the councilor and her actions. There are still many species that cannot help but fear what they do not understand. It is part of why my people have decided to join these talks, in hopes that your people will be treated under better conditions. I have seen your track record and I am convinced that you and the Vulcans have much more to give if given a chance to flourish.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Prince Leto. I am intrigued on how you will represent your people in the talks as well. I have read much about the Trevarian people.”

The Trevarian smiled. His lavender eyes shimmered, and his small hand reached out to touch Spock’s cheek.  “Sarlah wak wilat ki’dvel-tor tu. Vokau-tor taluhk vu tel.”

“I believe you mean ‘telan’,” Spock said calmly, removing the hand from his face.

Prince Leto only smiled. “Good night, your highness.”

The dinner ended soon after, apparently following Prince Leto’s cue to retire. Then it was just Kirk, Spock, and Serik in the room. The moment the last guest left, Kirk plopped himself down to help himself to the leftover food, piling it onto a plate. “So what did that kid say? I only caught part of it.”

“You understand Vulcan?” Spock asked.

“I’ve been learning it on my own. I don’t like people talking when I don’t know what they’re saying.” Kirk was so busy stuffing food into his mouth that he missed the look Serik and Spock shared. “And what did he mean by your highness?”

Looking up, Jim swore Spock wanted to sigh and rub his temples. “It has been a very busy day. I suggest resting while you can. I expect to see you on the bridge at 0600.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure thi─ Wait! Don’t take that yet!” Jim yelled as the staff came to clean up the table and subsequently, Jim’s food. Spock ordered them to wait until Jim was done eating and asked if Serik wished to eat as well.

“I will take my meal in my room before I take post tonight.” He bowed, “Allow me to escort you back first.”

Knowing Serik wouldn’t eat until he returned safely, Spock agreed. 

Jim watched them go, not forgetting that neither had answered his questions. He figured they wouldn’t, but it got him curious. He knew four languages. He picked two of them up in order to survive. He never really liked studying languages, and he found it took him three times longer to learn it compared to things he could learn with his hands or experience like engineering, but as he said before, he didn’t like being in the dark. The Vulcans were nothing but a mystery and the conversation at dinner was even more confusing. There weren’t much data on Vulcans in the database, and the things that were there was hidden behind a pile of technical terms and political speak that he didn’t understand.

He didn’t know anything about Vulcans or their supposed situation. He hadn’t cared much either, at least until tonight. He licked his fork clean of the frosting. Maybe he could use it to his advantage. Spock was obviously someone important on Vulcan, though he had no idea why the little kid called him “your highness”. From what he read, the queen of Vulcan’s children were dead which was why she was still queen in her old age and there wasn’t any registry of any of them having children.  Maybe if he found out, he could use it against Spock somehow.

Having eaten his fill, Jim left wondering what he should do. While exhausted, his mind was still buzzing with activity. So he ended up the only place that put him at ease on nights like this one. Pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the corner, he prepared himself for a long night of punching the bag.

Except someone was already going at it. Spock was beating the bag hard, and it was the much heavier bag that Jim had no chance in moving due to its weight. Smirking, he approached the agitated Vulcan, noting this time he was still wearing his gloves. “I didn’t get to say this before, since I was supposed to be well behaved and all, but gold really doesn’t suit you.”

Spock glanced at the shiny gold, sleeveless uniform he had discarded next to his gym bag. “It is the captain’s uniform.”

“I know, but it doesn’t look good on you. Makes you look too pale.”  He pulled off his undershirt, thinking nothing of it until he saw Spock looking him over. “So what has you so pissed off that you snuck away from your guards again? It’s not exactly safe for you right now.”

“I believe, Mr. Kirk, that it is not your concern.”

Jim clicked his tongue, circling around Spock. “Well then, how about sparring against me.” The Vulcan had a strange sense of déjà vu.

“It would be illogical; I am significantly stronger than you.”

“So is Serik,” Jim grinned. “And I know you watch over the training. You know how he man handles me and tries to break me. I can take whatever you dish out.”

Spock stepped away from the bag. “Do not blame me if you get injured.”

Jim backed onto the mat. “Bring it on you pointy eared bastard.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow and followed him onto the sparring mats. “You are quite eager to be beaten.”

“And you’re way too over confident.” Jim charged forward, pulling his arm back for a punch. The Vulcan merely looked at him condescendingly. That was until the human dropped to the floor at the last second, kicking out his feet. Spock lost his balance, but recovered, rolling out of the way of Kirk’s next strike.

Kirk didn’t want to give Spock the chance to plan anything, already throwing another punch, but Spock caught his wrist, pulled him forward, and threw him over his shoulder. Jim fell hard onto his back, hitting his head in the process. A soft hiss escaped him.

At the sound, Spock paused, unsure if he had severely injured him. Kirk took the hesitation as an opening, bringing his legs up over his head and wrapping them around Spock’s neck and using his momentum to bring Spock down to the mat or risk having his neck broken. He locked his legs, smug that he had pinned Spock. He hadn’t expected the Vulcan to pry his legs open and escape so easily. “Serik did not teach you that move.”

With a grin and a quick roll to put some distance between them, he said,” He didn’t teach me everything.”

“Obviously.”

“Have I convinced you I can take it yet?”

Spock closed the distance quickly, Jim threw another punch which Spock dodged and countered with one of his own, hitting him in the gut. Jim stumbled back allowing Spock to knock him off balance with an additional jab to his solar plexus. Jim fell and this time, Spock wouldn’t allow him to get away. He flipped the human over onto his stomach and took off the sash on his waist and used it to tie Jim’s wrists behind his back. “No.”

“Goddamn it let me go.” Jim struggled, trying to get Spock off him, but his wrists were bound tightly and restricting his movements.

“The more you struggle, the harder it will be for me to untie you.”

“You shouldn’t have tied me up in the first place!” he growled and not heeding Spock’s warning.

Restraining a sigh, Spock held Jim’s head down to the mat. “If we continued, you would have harmed yourself. Why will you not submit?”

“Because you’re an asshole.”

“Will you never be quiet? I played your game, I have won.”

“Make me,” Jim challenged.

“I could easily paralyze you from this position,” Spock trailed a finger along Jim’s spine, noting every pressure point on his frail human body. The action caused Jim to shiver and turn his head so his forehead was pressed against the mat. “I could easily break you.”

In the bright lights of the gym, Spock could note the curves of his muscles, see the sheen of sweat that covered his body, see how every muscle twitched under his touch.

“Then fucking break me already.” It was the voice that did it. The challenge it presented, and its breathy delivery.  Spock rolled him onto his back, where Jim rested on his arms uncomfortably, but the human didn’t complain. His bright blue eyes were still ablaze with challenge and a smirk still played on his lips.

Grabbing his hair, Spock tilted his head back, exposing his tanned neck to his lips. His lips brushed the tender skin sensually then his tongue flickered out for a taste. It was as heady as he remembered. He licked his pulse, and then proceeded to suck on it, earning a strangled groan from his captive. Slowly, Spock made his way down his throat and down the human’s exposed skin.

Every place Spock touched felt like fire on his skin. His lips cool on his heated skin and made him forget why he was provoking Spock in the first place. And then, Spock took his left nipple in between his teeth, biting lightly, before soothing it with his rough tongue.  Jim couldn’t withhold a moan, his body arching up into Spock’s as much as he could. He didn’t care that he was losing feeling in his arms. He needed more. Spock needed to touch him more.

“Spo─”

_Bang. Bang Bang_

The pounding on the gym door had Spock’s head snapping up and a small disappointed groan left the human under him.

“Why the hell is this thing locked?”

“Maybe maintenance is doing something in there?”

“Doubt it. I’m betting someone’s getting busy.”

Spock sat up, a frown on the corner of his lips. Jim looked away, trying to fight down the embarrassment as Spock got off him to retrieve his shirt. He couldn’t believe he got turned on by a man. Let alone a Vulcan.  “Are you going to untie me?” he asked annoyed.

Spock retrieved his knife and quickly freed Jim. The Vulcan wouldn’t talk or even look at him, moving quickly and efficiently. Packing his bag swiftly, Spock left through the locker room, bypassing the normal entrance to the gym.

It took a few minutes for the feeling to return to his arms, giving Jim plenty of time to process what had happened. Once the initial confusion and embarrassment went away, frustration flared. Why the hell was Spock fleeing when he was the one confused about all this? Hell, Spock had even initiated it. Twice! Sure Jim provoked him a bit, but there was no way he would have thought it would end up like this. And another thing, McCoy had said that Spock was probably a virgin. At the least he hadn’t slept with someone for the past nine years. Granted, it wasn’t like the Vulcan spent every moment of those nine years on the ship, but he shouldn’t be THAT good at kissing. A simple touch shouldn’t have made him almost beg for more. Fuck!

Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, pushing down his lingering arousal. It wasn’t his fault. He was just sexually frustrated. Very, very frustrated. Of course simple foreplay would affect him like this. He just needed it so much that he was beginning not to care who it was as long as it wasn’t his right hand. That’s all. After the dignitaries leave, he’d find someone to sleep with and get it out of his system.

The thought helped calm his nerves and exhaustion started to take over, reminding him how drained he really was. Maybe he could get Spock to give him a few days off. He’d been working enough overtime for some.

The banging grew louder, and Jim deemed it the right time to get the hell out before the idiots realized they would have better luck through the locker rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments
> 
> Vulcan of the week
> 
> Sarlah wak wilat ki’dvel-tor tu : A time will come where you have to choose.  
> Vokau-tor taluhk vu tel: Remember to cherish your bond
> 
> tel is a bond between bondmate, a marriage bond  
> telan is a bond of friendship.


	13. Finally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3:30. So tired.

Sovik sighed softly, pulling on his black undershirt before his light blue uniform. It had been quiet since he woke. Though he was aware it was because of the doctor filtering out information that it was so. He had not even been aware of the fact that Spock had ascended to the captain's seat until four hours prior. He was going to speak to his brother about withholding that type of information from him.

Just as he was pulling on the regulation boots, the door to the isolation ward opened. He expected it to be McCoy to tell him to hurry up and vacate the premises. He had not expected to see Spock. He dropped the boot, intending to salute, but Spock raised his hand, telling him that it was unneeded. "I am gratified to see you are well, sa-mekh."

The address made Sovik suspicious. Spock had not referred to him by that title since he was seven years old, just before his coming of age ceremony. He took a better look at Spock. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his clothes looked hastily thrown on, and his hair was slightly ruffled. Immediately he knew Spock had done something he should not have. Spock was the spitting image of his younger self when he frequently ended up in trouble. Given that he had come to him rather than Serik also proved that it was an emotional problem. One he rather not have Serik find out.

Sovik picked up his boot, still eying Spock and waiting for him to speak.

"Serik was rather obstinate about making sure you rested these past four days. If he were in your place, he would have demanded release a day after he regained consciousness."

"Serik has always been overprotective in his silent way. It is why he will make a great clan leader one day, though he doubts he has the heritage to be granted the position."

"Perhaps he is right, but it is a position he deserves."

"Deserves, but with his hands…" Sovik trailed off.

"He has finally told you."

Sovik nodded. "He was required to explain to me why you had to return my katra instead of him, that he was unable to do the task himself." Sovik looked at his hands briefly then back at Spock. "You are avoiding the reason why you have come, sa-fu. Please share what troubles you."

Spock glanced to the side, trying to reign in his embarrassment of being read so easily.

"I have known you since you were a kan-bu. I know when you are troubled and when you are in trouble." Sovik raised an eyebrow that seemed slightly mocking. "And calling me sa-mekh was a rather informative as well."

Spock's cheeks took on a rather dark green hue, much to Sovik's quiet amusement. It had been quite some time since he had seen Spock loose emotional control, and while Serik would have lectured Spock, Sovik privately enjoyed the opportunity to tease him once again. In the back of his mind however, he was aware that Spock must have been particularly troubled if his control was lacking this severely.

"Speak, sa-fu. What is troubling you?"

Spock's reluctance to speak started to become concerning. Finally, Spock asked, "Have you experienced a time where you lusted after an individual where you could not remain in control."

Sovik was silent. Then he blinked slowly, registering the information. "Are you speaking of…love?" he asked.

"No, purely physical attraction. Nothing more or less."

Sovik put on his last boot, giving himself time to contemplate what Spock was asking him. "No, I cannot say that I have experienced such a phenomenon. I do not believe Serik has either. Not outside of Pon Farr."

Through their bond, Sovik could feel the unease Spock was experiencing. And soon enough, Spock said, "So there is something wrong with my physiology."

"An inconclusive theory. There is not necessarily something 'wrong' with you."

"I do not understand," Spock said.

Sovik righted his uniform and stood, finally facing Spock fully. "You are part human, Spock. As much as you deny the fact and pretend it plays no factor into your physiology, it does not change the fact that it is present and it does affect you to a degree. That being said, I am not an expert in your genetic makeup, so I can only hypothesize why. My first hypothesis is that it is your human half influencing your actions. Humans tend to have multiple sexual partners in their life and indulge in sex frequently for recreational purposes. Perhaps you have inherited that tendency."

"The next hypothesis," Spock asked impatiently, not particularly liking that answer.

"The next is that you could be entering the early stages of pon farr. It would not be uncommon for you to start early due to our fewer numbers or your human heritage."

Spock's lips thinned, clearly not liking that answer either. "Do you have any other hypotheses?"

"The third is highly unlikely and will most likely not benefit you in knowing."

"As long as there is a probability, then there is a chance," Spock countered.

Sovik conceded to his logic. "Very well. The third possibility that I can deduce is that the individual you are attracted to is t'hy'la, and your Vulcan blood is what is making you lose control. Feeling your t'hy'la there but not _feeling_ them can be confusing to the mind and physical touch is the best next way to reconfirm their existence."

"You speak of myths. A t'hy'la bond has not been claimed in 300 years nor is one wanted."

Sovik picked up the disdain in Spock's voice and silently agreed. "As I have stated, it was highly unlikely."

"None of these options are optimal."

Sovik tilted his head. "Most things in life are not, but it is the hand you have been dealt with. As you seem to be in control of your emotions at this moment, I doubt it is Pon Farr. Most likely you are dealing with the human element in your blood. You will have to choose whether to suppress it or indulge it."

"The answer to what I must do is obvious." Because Serik and Vulcan would want him to suppress it, Sovik added mentally.

"Sa-fu, rather than causing friction, perhaps you should consider not resisting what is naturally a part of you. Perhaps your body is trying to tell you what it needs to remain in optimal health. It is worth considering."

Spock stood in contemplation. "I will...meditate on this further. If I choose to engage this individual in intercourse…"

"I will keep it from Serik. I do caution you to be careful. You are in difficult position Spock."

"I am aware. Thank you, Sovik."

At the use of his name, Sovik returned to attention, adopting his subordinate position once again. "I am gratified that I could assist you, Captain."

Spock too regained his composure, no trace of the young inexperienced Vulcan that had entered the room nearly ten minutes ago. "I expect to see you on duty on the bridge tomorrow. I believe Serik has forgone sleep since the day before you were brought to the brig."

Sovik agreed that was probably the case as well if he had been briefed properly. "I will relieve him at 0600."

Spock gave a sharp nod and left sickbay, Sovik following him out. All things considered, Sovik felt at ease after their talk. Granted, keeping a secret from Serik would be interesting, for lack of a better word. He supposed he could break his brother to the idea slowly. After all, it had been 25 years since he had last taken up the task. Sovik glanced at Spock. That task had definitely been worth it.

* * *

Kirk was late to his morning shift, Spock noted at 0609 hours when the subject in question came shuffling in. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept at all, not that Spock could say he slept either. After returning from sickbay and after receiving a slight lectured/scolding from Serik for disappearing without a guard, he had spent the entire night meditating, deciding what to do.

"You are late," he said when Kirk took his spot beside Sovik.

"I know," the way Kirk said it was bland. No attitude yet no professionalism either. It just sounded automatic. In addition, the human barely looked at him. Not that Spock was watching him or anything.

"Expect punishment after the shift has ended."

Kirk didn't protest though he shot an accusing glare at him. Throughout the shift, Spock was acutely aware of Kirk's presence. While he had managed to get his work done, a part of his mind was elsewhere. His extended mediation session had not given him an answer to his problem. While the logical thing to do was to suppress the desire, Sovik's words remained with him. But if he took Sovik's advice and indulged, there was a chance it could be used against him or worse yet, encourage the officers looking to move up in rank to try to sleep with him.

"I brought you some herbal tea, Captain," Yeoman Rand held up a thermos. "I thought you could use it after such a long day yesterday."

"Stupid, like the captain would accept food from you after Pike was assassinated," another female crew member muttered, but with the silence on the bridge everyone heard her.

"It's not like he was poisoned," Rand defended.

"If you have enough time to do something so meaningless, then you must have finished all of your duties." When the young woman started, Spock added, "Return to work, Miss Rand."

Humiliated, she could only mutter a soft "Yes, sir."

As she passed, Kirk took the thermos from her, flashing her a smile. "No need to waste the hard work of a pretty girl." He unscrewed the top and made a show of taking a long drink from it. "It's good too. You have a good talent here."

The yeoman blushed at the compliment.

"Yeoman, I believe you have work to do," Spock intoned. Regaining her senses, the woman left, leaving Kirk with the thermos. "Mr. Kirk, you have a job to do as well. If you have time to fool around, then you are not doing your job properly."

Kirk wanted to retort, Spock could see it, but his blue eyes caught sight of the agonizer on his belt and seemed to change tactics, "Sorry Captain, I hit the gym earlier this morning and got a bit too wound up. Any recommendations that may help with that, sir?"

If Spock was human, he may have overreacted to the question by coughing or gaping, or some other overt physical response. As it were, the only physical reaction was a subtle change in the coloring of his face. So subtle he was sure the only one who noticed was Sovik who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

Spock didn't answer the question. He suspected Kirk wasn't even looking for one. The shift went by in silence and Spock mentally counted down until its end, painfully aware of Kirk's constant presence. It couldn't go fast enough.

* * *

"Looks like someone got lucky last night."

"Huh?" Jim looked up, seeing McCoy and surprisingly Scotty sit beside him. "What makes you think that?"

"It's not like you could give yourself that hickey, laddie."

With an irritated scowl, he stabbed at his lunch. "Nothing happened. Now what the hell are you doing here Scotty?"

It was the engineer's turn to scowl, picking up his sandwich and trying to keep the excess lettuce from falling out. "The captain had me thrown out. Said I'd been working too long or some nonsense like that. He was a tad touchy this morning."

"I'll say he was," McCoy agreed. "He sent three people to me, two to interrogations, and four to the booth. Granted four of them were involved in assassination attempts and two were talking mutiny."

"Yeah, but he seemed cold . . . well colder than usual," Scotty took a bite of his sandwich and moaned.

"I don't care what he does," Jim eyed the yeoman from earlier across the mess. "Besides, with a little luck, I might be able to get laid after all."

Both Scotty and McCoy turned to see who Jim was talking about. Scotty seemed semi -interested while the doctor's face said what he was thinking loud and clear. "I don't know Jim. I think you'll have better luck with whoever gave you that hickey."

"You never know. The lad's got a bit of charm to him. If you offer her a few credits, she might," Scotty added.

"Thank Scotty. At least someone has faith in me," Jim glared at his supposed friend across the table.

"Just trying to keep you from getting your dick cut off," McCoy muttered.

"Speaking of trying to get laid, when the captain came down to engineering early this morning, one of the ensign's tried to feel him up. That guard of his had the lad's hand broken and on the floor in a second flat. Knew those new recruits were none too bright."

McCoy and Scotty continued to gossip (not that either would ever call it that), while Jim continued to push around his food on his plate. He hadn't slept last night. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the feel of Spock's lips on his skin, and he refused to masturbate with Spock in mind. In the end, it just led to a long night of being miserable and irritable, and he really thought he had a chance with that yeoman until the damn captain interfered.

The yeoman, what was her name again, looked up, meeting his gaze. Then again, maybe it wasn't too late. Putting on a smile and murmuring an excuse to his friends, he stood up fully intending to try to talk her into his bed this evening. He was half way across the mess when Serik blocked his way.

"Your presence is required. The meeting with the Tellerite ambassador has moved up."

"Son of a bitch! You have got to be shitting me!" Of course during Jim's loud exclamation it was the exact moment the mess hall had grown quiet.

Muffled laughter was heard around the mess, and Serik just raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Mr. Kirk?"

Sighing and rubbing his face, he muttered a no. Begrudgingly, he followed Serik out of the mess hall, resigning to his fate of blue balls for the rest of the night.

* * *

Diplomacy was something Spock generally avoided when he could. For a long time, he could not understand how Sarek could do it for a living. The prejudice and racism was illogical, and after the first hour and a half, Spock grew exhausted trying to change preconceived notions on who Vulcans were and what they stood for. As it were, he sensed that many of the diplomats were waiting for his species to die out.

It was 1939 ship time, and Spock was waiting for the night to end. He was waiting on one last event. There were four delegates at the captain's table. The Andorian, Tellarite, Trevarian, and the Vulcan dignitaries were present. He had to admit, the Trevarian prince was quite the astrophysicist. His theories on abstract quantum theory were insightful and well thought out. Unfortunately, Ambassador Gov was not one for the sciences and frequently interrupted, fighting for his attention for some unknown reason. Whether it was just to start a fight or he truly desired Spock's attention, he did not know.

As the ship's time turned 1940, the Andorian ambassador suddenly dropped his utensils, ducking under the table, clutching his head. Everyone at the table stared at him for the exception of Spock who helped himself to another spoonful of the soup. 10.82 seconds later, the ambassador's head slowly came up from under the table, his eyes looking around cautiously and his antenna twitching anxiously.

Kirk and Serik grabbed the ambassador by his arms, pulling him to his feet and holding a phaser to his back. "You will find Ambassador that the explosive you have placed under my chair has been removed," Spock said, placing his spoon down. "As there have been multiple assassination attempts on my life since I have become captain, your attempt was poorly timed as my guards are on high alert and more cautious than usual."

"Don't act so smug. You may have stopped me, but there'll be others," The Andorian sneered.

"I must admit that you are much more confident than I have given you credit for. If I were in your position, I would be less boisterous and more concerned about Andoria."

The ambassador stopped his struggling for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"You have just attacked a captain of a Starship, the representative of the empire. That gives me certain privileges."

"So? I don't care what you do to me. You won't get anything out of me."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You will not be who I would seek retribution from. I am well aware your life means very little to you. However, the family you had hidden on colony Beta Sigma VII's moon is a different story, is it not?"

The ambassador's face paled. "Had?"

Spock leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands. "As soon as I discovered what you had planned Ambassador, I contacted a few of my operatives that were stationed in that system and paid your family a visit. They are currently being held in a non disclosed location."

"You're lying!"

"Of course, your family is only a small tip of the scale. That is to punish you for your misdeeds. The interception of the cargo ship bringing the medication to stop the epidemic currently ravaging Andoria on the other hand will be the warning to any others who wish to act against the empire."

"Y-you can't do that! The Andorians are a race under the protection of the empire. Without that medicine a quarter of my planet will die!"

"I can. As you are the spokesperson and representative of your planet, being its ambassador means that the attempt on my life is an act against the empire. Therefore it is only logical that any cargo being transported to such a possible threat should be confiscated and thoroughly searched. And if that search just so happens to take 4.76 months and a fourth of your people die in that time, then it is an unfortunate circumstance that you brought to your people by your actions."

Fear crippled his expression and his body began to shake.

"Serik, take our guest to the brig."

"You won't get away with this. Someone will kill you and the rebels will prevail, bastard son of─Aaaah!" The loud crack of the ambassador's broken arm was heard before they saw the bone poking out of the skin.

"My apologies Captain. I instinctively increased my grip with his constant struggling and broke his arm." Serik didn't sound apologetic at all, and he still pulled and pushed the ambassador along roughly, _accidentally_ hitting the broken bone a few times, causing howling screams of pain from the Andorian as he was escorted from the room.

"Such a display during dinner. I expected much more from you captain. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my trip?" the Tellarite complained. Most likely because he enjoyed arguing rather than seeing any real problem with how he handled the situation, Spock thought. And Prince Leto hadn't risen to Ambassador Gov's bait earlier at dinner, so the ambassador probably decided to switch targets.

"Such a display will not be repeated during your stay, Ambassador Gov. I again apologize for the inconvenienced it has caused," Spock said, not willing to humor the Tellarite in a pointless debate.

"Will you really stop the cargo ship?" Prince Leto asked. His big lavender eyes looked at Spock expectantly like a young child would.

"He has acted against the empire. If fear and respect is not maintained then the empire cannot endure. However, if the ambassador cooperates, then the delay will be significantly shortened."

Disappointment filled his eyes. "Eik-te'kru dang-ma vu fonn'es? Rim du. Dang-nar-tor du ta? Fam dang-lamok du," by the end, his voice was full of passion, beseeching.

But Spock was not moved. Calmly, he met his passion with a calm, logical response. "Rai, ish-no lau-rish-tor etek."

"Yi Abru-talupau nash-veh du." The prince stood from his seat and gave a small bow, "If you would excuse me." He left the room in a hurry.

"Very Vulcan for you to say," Lady Amanda commented.

Spock met her gaze, restraining his emotions as he said, "Would you have responded differently?"

"I wonder." Gracefully she stood. "An advanced species was put into servitude by an inferior race due to their pacifism. What would that say about the Vulcan's will to survive? No direction, no drive, no ambition. They are efficient servants who need a master to guide their efforts properly."

Silence fell for a brief moment then Spock stood. "You may consume the rest of your dinner at your own pace. I must oversee the treatment of our Andorian guest."

Ambassador Gov began to protest, but Spock had left before he could really get started. Serik would inform him of when the Andorian's arm was healed and when he was scheduled for interrogation.

When they turned to an empty corridor, his human guard tugged on his arm forcing him to stop. "Why do you allow them to talk to you like that?"

"I do not have time to deal with your ignorance on intergalactic politi─"

"Don't give me that shit. First the Romulan accusation incident and now this? How much of a push over do you intend to be─" Spock's hand flew out, backing handing Jim hard across the face, making him stumble back dazed from the strong strike.

"Do not speak to me of what you do not know. In the end, their words hold little importance, but every action I take or do not take influences my position and whether New Vulcan will continue to survive. A human like you will never comprehend, nor does your species want to."

The human was staring at him strangely and something in him began to stir. It was the same feeling he had in his quarters when Kirk had challenged him. The urge to hurt him yet kiss him. The need to ravage him and taste him, and the way the human was staring at him wasn't helping.

Spock forced himself to look away. "Go to McCoy to ensure your jaw is not broken. Be on time tomorrow." With haste, Spock walked away before he lost control yet again. Normally he would have gone to the gym for a run, but Mr. Kirk had a habit of going there often as well. Instead, he went to the one place he had been unable to visit since his rise to the captaincy.

The labs were empty this time of night. With no dire experiments taking place and little samples to analyze, none of the scientists were staying late. His old office was still unoccupied, not having yet chosen a new Science Officer. He was planning to try to keep the position as long as he could, but until he replaced the First Officer position, he was too swamped with work to focus on his private experiments. In the end, he knew he would have to name a new Science Officer in approximately 37.36 days.

Turning on his science console, he leaned back in his chair focusing his mind in light meditation until the door hissed open and there was a clatter of PADDs hitting the floor. "Oh, Commander, er, Captain, I didn't know you were here."

Spock opened his eyes. "Miss Kalomi, is there a reason you are in the science department at this time?"

"Well, I come in here every night to clean and organize your office," she blushed lightly. "when you aren't here. I know you like your things organized a certain way, and the last time the yeoman did it, you spent two days cleaning up after her, and you had to put off your experiments…"

"Are you looking for compensation?"

"N-no of course not, um…" She bent down to pick up the PADDs. "I only wanted to help, but if you're working, I'll come back later. I'm sorry for bothering you," she rambled.

Spock didn't offer her assistance and watched her scramble to try to organize the PADDS.

"Goodnight, Captain," she murmured, hurrying to leave only to bump into Serik. She eeped and mumbled an apology once again and left.

"I do not understand her motives," Spock said, turning to his computer and pulling up his research files.

"I believe she wishes to engage in intercourse with you. It would explain her obsession with involving herself with you," Serik picked up a PADD she forgot.

"Her actions are not like the others who have had similar motives, and I have been propositioned 43 times in the past five days."

"Is that the reason Sovik is trying to make the idea of you engaging in sexual intercourse with a crewman logical?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I cannot claim to know the mind of another no matter how long I have known someone. I can only offer a hypothesis."

Serik stared at him. "Sovik may not always be logical, but he always has a reason when he makes illogical requests. 89.29 percent of the time, it involves your wellbeing. Should I be aware of something, Spock?"

"It is inconsequential." Spock began typing away, giving himself an excuse not to look at Serik.

"I will not stop you if you wish to engage in coitus," Serik responded after some time had passed and the younger Vulcan made clear he wasn't going to elaborate on the subject. "Vulcans engage in the activity with their bondmate and only their bondmate, but it is illogical to pretend that you are fully Vulcan. I have conceded to Sovik's argument in this case." Spock stopped typing. "Having stated that, I urge you on the side of caution. Not only in choosing your potential sexual partner, but the consequences it may have on your shields and your physiology. Also, remember to keep your gloves on the entire time and─"

"I am well aware of what I must do. I meditated on this thoroughly."

"So it is decided?"

Spock didn't answer, just staring at the information on the terminal.

"Very well. I have forwarded the necessary information to your PADD regarding the ambassador. I will leave you to your work." Serik bowed and left to guard the entrance.

Serik took the information rather well, though Spock would have to talk to Sovik about what it meant to keep something from Serik. Even with the breach of privacy, it was a load off his mind, and in the end made his final decision that much easier.

* * *

The next day, Jim was relieved to watch the diplomats disembark. Spending 16 hours with Spock the past two days had lead to sleepless nights and wanting space. He kept telling himself it was worth it, but he wasn't so sure anymore. After Spock had struck him last night and he had fallen against the wall, he found himself waiting for Spock to make a move. His blood grew hot just from a look from the Vulcan.

Frustrated he rubbed his head furiously. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he into S&M or what? Oh and he was straight. Yeah he couldn't forget that, though that seemed increasingly unlikely. He did know that he was at his limit. He couldn't take anymore nights of waking up with a hard on.

Once the diplomats were safely at their destination, Spock released him from his duties and the twins took the job of guarding Spock while on the planet which was okay with him. He went down to engineering to plan out his next move.

Jim was helping Scotty with fixing the matter/anti-matter chamber, handing him the tools he needed absentmindedly. After handing Scotty the wrong item for the second time, the engineer sighed heavily, taking off his goggles. "I'm glad you came to come visit, lad. Really, I am, but you are no more helpful right now than my own department." At Jim's miserable face, he sighed again. "If you want to get your rocks off lad, why don't you track down whoever gave you the bite mark. They seem more than interested."

Jim groaned. "Fuck no. Not even an option."

Scotty's face turned menacing. "Someone didn't force himself on you, did he Jim?"

With a small wince he said, "Well to be fair, I did put myself into that situation."

"Tell me who it is, Jimmy. No one messes with one of my laddies. I'll throw him out with the garbage and everyone will be none the wiser."

"Scotty, just drop it. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me, lad. Now you tell me who done it or else."

"Okay, enough, I get it." Jim rubbed his temples. "Just promise you won't tell anyone. I really can't handle more than one person knowing right now."

"Who am I going to tell, lad? I don't talk to anyone except you and the good doctor."

"Don't tell Bones either. He's overprotective as it is."

"Aye, he is. Never thought the doctor to be the fatherly type," Scotty said almost wistfully. "Now, tell me who it is."

Jim grimaced, trying to fight down the blush coloring his cheeks. Just thinking about it made him embarrassed, frustrated, and mildly angry. "I-it's. . . it's Spock."

Scotty's brow furrowed. "The captain put this person up to it?"

Jim face palmed. "No, he..," he felt his face grow hotter and pointed to the hickey with frustration.

The size of Scotty's eyes grew comically large. "Captain Spock? As in the stickler for the rules, stick up his ass, tortured someone who touched him wrong, and ignores every invitation to bed captain we all know and hate?"

With a tired nod, Jim sat on the floor, letting his legs dangle off the walkway and rested his forehead on the crossbeam of the guardrail. "Yeah, that's the one."

"Oh, laddie, I don't know if I can help you there. He's the captain. I could try to stage an assassination attempt, but with no first officer named, we'd have a civil war on our hands. Technically, I'm the next high ranking officer, but I'd rather sever my arm than take the captaincy."

Jim sighed. "Scotty, I told you to forget it. It's not that big of a deal."

Carefully, the engineer sat next to him studying the younger man's face carefully. "You don't seem that mad about it if you don't mind me saying."

"I don't do guys," Jim murmured. "I don't have anything against guys who like men, but I just witnessed enough shit in my life to be turned off by them. A woman can't force me to have sex, and women aren't as physically aggressive if they don't get their way. Sure, I've flirted with guys to get what I want. I had to, but I never meant it and I definitely was never attracted to them. Women are…"

"Safer?" Scotty filled in, and Jim nodded.

"I like to be in control. I have to be in control. And yet when Spock…" his face turned beat red and he lightly banged his head against the crossbeam.

"You liked it, didn't you, laddie?" When Jim didn't answer, the Scott patted him on the back. "Well this is something you have to figure out on your own laddie, But if he forces himself on you again, let me know. I don't care who he is."

"Thanks, Scotty." The engineer left him to his thoughts. At least someone knew now, and it was someone who wouldn't give him a hard time about it. Scotty was someone who wouldn't stop working for anything, and he was touched that Scotty not only humored him in the conversation but was genuinely worried about his well being. Him, McCoy, besides his mother, he had never met people who'd….

With one last sigh he raised his head. No matter what he felt, these people were temporary as were these emotions. He couldn't get attached. He would have to remember that.

Standing up, he told Scotty goodbye. The engineer shot him a cheeky grin and Jim left engineering, intending to go to his room until he saw the yeoman from yesterday interacting with one of the intercom system. Perhaps someone was finally giving him chance.

Putting his smile into place, he walked up to her. "Isn't it a bit late for you to be working?"

Startled, she jumped at his sudden closeness. "A crewmember is never officially off duty," she said, holding her PADD to her chest. "No masters to reel you in this time?"

He chuckled. "What the master doesn't know," he joked. "So are you really into Spock or─"

"He has rank. If you can get into bed with the captain, you get privileges. Better percentage of any money pirated, able to boss around other people, protection, the works. Any woman would want a life like that. It's not exactly easy being a woman in Starfleet."

"I could imagine. But I wouldn't waste my time with him if I were you. I don't think he's interested. In anyone really."

"So you think I should get into bed with you," she put her hand on her hip. "Do I have that right?"

Jim's grin grew a little wider. "It wouldn't hurt. We both get rid of a bit of frustration."

She smiled. "You think I'd sleep with anyone? The captain is one thing, you, not so much," she started to walk away.

"You wouldn't regret it," he called out. It because he was desperate. He refused to beg for anything, but he might as well give one last try.

"Good night, Mr. Kirk," she called out. She didn't even turn around. Figures.

Going back to his room he felt a bit pissed off, but too emotionally drained to do anything about it. It was at this point that he missed water. The feel of water on his skin was something he detested. Being hosed was not fun. However, the showers he would occasionally get were nice. The arena was located on a planet were it was cheaper to use the old water pipes than install sonics, and the warm water on his sore muscles was a blissful euphoria in the middle of hell. He didn't have that luxury here.

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that week, he pulled off his clothes, tossing them wherever and stepped into the small bathroom for a quick shower.

Clean, he threw on a pair of briefs and a t-shirt. He wanted to sleep through his misery and hope for a better day tomorrow.

As his closed his eyes, his mind wandered back to the office, him trapped against the wall, Spock's breath on his ear. In the gym, their chests rubbing against each other. His eyes snapped open, and he groaned. Even tonight he wouldn't be spared.

Sighing, his hand slid down his chest, slipped under the hem of his briefs, and grabbed a hold of his semi aroused member. He wouldn't fight it this time.

He let the memory wash over him. Yes, Spock's touch was addicting. The way he pinned him down and over powered him. The way Spock could take a punch.

He pushed the hem his briefs down, releasing his member from its fabric confines, giving it a long slow stroke.

The door to his room hissed open, and Jim didn't stop, glancing up at Spock as he masturbated. Spock was watching him, focused on the way his hand moved tantalizingly slow. Even if Jim wasn't looking, he would have felt the Vulcan's hot gaze. The way the Vulcan stared as he smeared the precum over the head of his cock with his thumb made him feel like prey and Spock his predator. Jim loved it. Loved the rush of adrenaline Spock instigated in him.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Jim asked huskily, making a show of pulling up his t-shirt to show off his well defined abs. "Because I swear to god if you walk out now without getting me off, I'll kill you myself."

Three strides and Spock was at his bedside, looking down at him as if considering whether he was worth the trouble. Impatient and aching to get release, Jim grabbed his tunic and pulled him down to the bed, mashing their lips together in a desperate need.

It was all it took for Spock to let go, adjusting himself so he fit on the small bed, settling in between the human's legs. Jim buried his hands in silky, black hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. The kiss was sloppy, each more concerned with tasting each other than finesse, and fighting each other for dominance. Spock's tongue would dip into Jim's mouth, and Jim would try to bite, missing the retreating tongue and take advantage to slip his tongue into Spock's mouth. Just because he wanted this, didn't mean Jim was going to make it easy. He had a feeling Spock didn't mind either if the hard object against his thigh was what he thought it was.

Leather clad fingers trailed up Jim's body, pulling up his shirt as he did so. The touch was light and teasing, making Jim arch his body to follow the touch, but Spock, the douche that he was, pinned his body to make sure he couldn't follow. Jim responded, by pulling out a few strands of hair.

Growling softly, he removed Jim's hands from his head and pinned them above his head. Spock pulled back enough to let his annoyance known, but his swollen, bitten lips were much more interesting to watch.

Spock raised an eyebrow, and with his free, hand tweaked a sensitive nipple between his fingers.

Jim bit his lip, trying not to give Spock the satisfaction of hearing him moan first. It was difficult. He was at Spock's mercy. His hard, leaking cock was caught in between their bodies as they kissed, and Spock made sure he was unable to move and gain the relief he seeked. "I'm starting to think you like overpowering me."

Spock didn't respond to the comment, not that Jim expected him to. He was just glad the Vulcan hadn't run away. But Spock took off his uniform sash and used it to tie Jim's hands to the headboard. This time however, Jim didn't think it was a kink and rather to guarantee Spock's safety. Unease was in Spock's eyes as he sat up, pulling off his shirt in a swift fluid motion. Then a thought occurred to him. "You've done this before right?"

Spock still didn't speak, but slowly removed his knife and phaser from his belt, placing them within easy reach, but out of the way so neither of them would accidentally get hurt. Once that was done, he must have assumed he undressed enough because he did not move to remove anything else.

He was surprisingly well defined, Jim thought. There was a light dusting of hair on his chest, his muscles were pronounced yet lean, easily hidden under clothing. Jim could see each muscle work as he moved, like watching a cat waiting to pounce.

The first thing Spock decided to do was torment his prey. He stared at Jim's erect cock like an intriguing experiment, wrapping his hand around the erection. Yes! Finally, someone was touching him. He tried to buck his hips, but Spock kept him pinned.

Even through the leather, Spock could feel the pulsing throb and heat. Watching Jim's face, he started pumping him at a brutal pace. Jim's face twisted into a mixture of pain and pleasure as if unsure of what to feel. The friction of the gloves made it painful, yet oh so good. And… shit he was going to cum too soon. In his haze, he tried to remember how to work his mouth to warn him. It was too late. It had been too long since he indulged in any sexual activity. He hadn't even touched himself until tonight. He came hard, his cum thick, coating his stomach and Spock's gloves in the fluid.

Jim lay breathing heavily, staring at Spock with half lidded eyes. Spock looked at his hand and eyebrow cocked, and, while meeting his gaze, licked the cum from his fingers. His green tinted tongue flicked out, taking it into his mouth in a way that made Jim's cock twitch with renewed interest.

There was no possible way this man was a virgin, Jim thought weakly, anticipating what would come next. He had never been the one underneath and he began to wonder why not as Spock took his half aroused cock into his mouth to help him along.

Spock's teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and he hissed, but the pain didn't detract from it, only enhanced it as Spock's rough tongue swirled around his head. Fuck it, he was a masochist. He admitted it to himself. He didn't care that Spock gripped his hips too roughly. He could only focus on Spock's mouth on him, driving him once again to the edge. He tugged against his constraints, rubbing his wrists raw, wanting to stop him. Wanting to keep him there.

Spock pulled away just before he was about to cum again, licking his lips clean. A soft disappointed groan escaped Jim before he could stop it.

Slowly, he kissed up Jim's body, sucking, licking, and then biting before moving on. His body kept rubbing against Jim's overly sensitive member, making him squirm. "Stop stalling already," he growled, growing impatient. He waited too long to keep putting it off, and Spock's silence and perfect composure was driving him mad. "Get undressed."

Spock lifted an eyebrow before flipping him over and ripping off his briefs. Jim tried to look over his shoulder, but couldn't see what Spock was up to. The Vulcan had him on his knees, spreading Jim's legs with his thigh. There was the sound of a cap to something opening, and soon a finger probing at his entrance covered in a cool gel.

The first finger slid home with little hesitation, and Jim squirmed with discomfort at the foreign feeling of being filled. He had never allowed any of his partners to penetrate him, being the one thing off limits in his sexual escapades. Thankfully none of the women were either interested or extremely pushy about the matter. Unfortunately, Spock didn't allow him much time to get used to the feeling as he slipped a second finger in, causing him to hiss when he began stretching his hole with a scissoring motion.

"Slow down." Jim tried to shoot Spock a glare over his shoulder. Spock wasn't listening, kissing the tan back as he worked Jim's entrance open. Jim was failing to find it pleasurable at that point, and began to wonder if he really wanted to take it up the ass. He doubted Spock would be willing to switch positions.

Once Spock considered him lubed up enough, he removed his fingers, and Jim could vaguely hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down. Jim tried to relax, knowing what was to come. He wasn't prepared for Spock grabbing his hips so roughly and thrusting all the way to the hilt.

"Fuck!" Jim winced at the pain, still wondering if it was a good idea. Spock grabbed a hold of Jim's member, stoking the erection that had wilted a little, trying to bring him back to hardness. Thankfully, Spock moved at a slow pace, but it didn't seem to get much better.

Seconds before Jim gave up and told Spock to pull out and get the fuck off him, Spock hit something that made him lose all sense of thought and bearings. When Spock hit it a second, time, he clutched the fabric of his make shift cuffs, moaning loudly. Spock picked up the pace, hitting that spot repeatedly over and over, abusing his prostate with sharp, accurate thrusts. It was a sensory overload. Spock's hands on his cock, his lips on his neck, pleasure surging through his body at every thrust.

He wasn't going to last. He could feel the orgasm building, and he didn't want to warn Spock. He needed it. He craved it. He was so close.

He came in Spock's hand for the second time that night, his entire body shuddering at the force of his orgasm, and Spock came right after, filling him to the brim until semen trailed down his hole and down his thighs.

Spock's arm around his waist was apparently the only thing keeping him up because once that arm was gone, Jim collapse onto the bed, breathing hard and slightly dazed. His mind couldn't seem to wrap around what just happened. "Fuck," he whispered.

There was only a moment of rest. Once that moment was up, Spock had gotten off him, apparently not interested in sharing the afterglow. In fact, from what Jim could see in the dim lighting, Spock's facial expression wasn't different then when he was sitting on the bridge going over reports. Retrieving a wetted towel from the bathroom, Spock removed his gloves and started to clean himself.

Jim watched Spock wipe himself down with the towel, cleaning himself thoroughly of their mess, removing all the evidence from his body. Neither said anything the entire Spock cleaned and dressed himself, looking as impeccable as he did when he first walked in. He then gathered the towel and the soiled gloves and threw them down the laundry chute and pulled on a spare set of gloves retrieved from his pocket. Without a word or even a glance, Spock left.

Laying there still in his glory, too lazy to move, Jim realized Spock hadn't said a single word throughout the entire exchange. It was like a dream. His ass hurt and he had quite a few bruises, but he had enjoyed the majority of it. More than enjoyed it, it was the best sex he ever had. A chuckled escaped him, and he closed his eyes. It was a onetime thing. Just a one night stand that neither wanted to mention again. Maybe he was asleep already, and it was all just one hell of a wet dream. All Jim knew was that for the first time since that kiss in the office, he was finally able to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah....it's been a looooong time since I've written sex. It shows. No comments about the scene please. I almost edited it out like Cardinal Rule and only added it because their sex life will significantly show their character development and feelings toward each other. I'm sensitive about it, and it will show if asked about it
> 
> Vulcan  
> sa-fu: son  
> kan-bu: young child/baby  
> Eik-te’kru dang-ma vu fonn’es: Does the empire deserve such loyalty  
> Rim du: You are nothing (to them)  
> Dang-nar-tor du ta: Should you accept that  
> Fam dang-lamok du: Should you not stand?  
> Rai, ish-no lau-rish-tor etek: No, if we are to surive  
> Yi Abru-talupau nash-veh du: Then I have over estimated you.


	14. Days After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I could actually write something and not finish it at 3 am, that'd be great. Too bad that's never the case. If it seems rushed I apologize. Let me know if there's a mistake.

So last night wasn’t a dream, Jim thought as he looked himself in the mirror the next morning. His body was covered in finger shaped bruises and bite marks, and his ass was killing him.  What he wouldn’t give for a dermal regenerator to at least make it less pronounced. But if he asked Bones for one, that would lead to questions. Luckily, Spock hadn’t left any in visible places. Probably on purpose. A calculation, Spock would call it.

Sighing, Jim tried to plan out what he was going to do on his day off. Sure he could stay in his room, but he hated feeling confined, especially with his PADD confiscated for another week at a minimum. He could hide his limp. He had enough practice to do so, and there was one person he wanted to talk too, but she wouldn’t get off for another 4 hours.

His stomach grumbled, and he stood a bit shocked that he noticed. True, he slept in late so he missed eating breakfast as early as he normally did, but he had grown accustomed to the constant gnawing of an empty stomach. He had never really known what it was like to actually be full on a regular basis.  His mother did her best to keep him fed, but often he would lie and tell her he was full just to save food so she wouldn’t work so hard. Hunger was something he never took notice of in the past and just accepted it.

He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed other changes as well. He was a healthy weight, his skin was clearer, his nails were no longer brittle and hair had a luster to it. It had been so gradual, he hadn’t really noticed over the two months he had been here. This is what he should have always looked like. Healthy. Something so simple he had been denied for most his life. He watched a dark smile cross his lips, and his eyes crinkle with hatred. The world was a cruel place. Survival of the fittest. Now that he had a taste of this, knew what he deserved, knew what he was missing, he wouldn’t let it go. Not again.

After a shower and a fresh pair of clothes, it was already 10 am. Bones would already be in sickbay performing physicals, and Scotty would be hidden in the Jefferies tubes and engines.  Dodging Bones was probably a good thing. The doctor was always shoving a tri-corder in his face. He would put two and two together instantly, and he wasn’t ready to explain the whole Spock thing to him. If he could avoid it, he would. Scotty, well one glance from him, and he’d probably know, but he wouldn’t ask questions.

He stopped by the mess, grabbing an apple as a quick meal. Lunch would roll around in another two hours anyway.  He also managed to swipe someone’s PADD, when they weren’t looking. He’d have Scotty make sure no one could track him as he used it.

He stopped by engineering to give Scotty the PADD, who made quick work of it in ten minutes. As suspected, Scotty gave him an all knowing look, and he waited a minute or two to see if Jim would say anything about it. If it had been nonconsensual.  When Jim didn’t say anything, he didn’t push or ask, but there was a slight crazed, murderous look in his eyes. He must not have gotten over the fact Spock had been forceful. With a smile and a few jokes, Jim managed to make the engineer ease before leaving the department. It was probably a good thing too. An angry Scotty probably wasn’t healthy for the ship.

Checking the time, he headed to the security quarters, intending to kill some time. “Farrell,” he grinned. “How’s the new job holding up?”

The older man smiled, “Better than guarding Pike, but I have to admit I miss it a bit.” The man leaned back in his seat. “But with the new captain, I might get thrown into the brig.  He’s gone through five since he’s taken the seat.”

Jim chuckled, taking a seat across from him. “Yeah, well, to be fair, they either tried to kill him or failed at their jobs.” He put his feet up onto the table. “So how are your buddies holding up?”

“Angry. They want the Vulcan dead, but one, they can’t tell which one of them it is half the time, and two, they had their chance during the hunt. Officially, Sovik gets to walk free, and the captain can punish them if they get caught. Not worth it in the long run.”

So that was why Spock let the hunt go on. “As long as we’re still on for poker after shift tomorrow. Been looking for a way to make some extra cash.”

Farrell grinned. “Well I don’t know how much you’ll win since they don’t know you that well. But who knows, you did do us a favor getting rid of Pike.”

“Well just getting know them will be useful too,” he laughed.

Farrell laughed with him but it was out of courtesy. The man wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t incredibly smart either. Jim was under no illusions that Farrell didn’t think he was up to something. It was in his instincts as a bodyguard, but there was nothing to protect. Poker was innocent enough, and Jim planned to keep it that way for now.

“I’ll talk to Spock. He might consider you for something better than just sitting in the security room watching feeds at least.”

“That or another raise. Either or.”

They talked for a while longer until Farrell was pulled away to supervise the new trainees. It was perfect timing really.  She would just be getting off any minute now. Hurrying down the hall and up the lift, he managed to catch her as she was leaving the lift from the bridge.

“Hey Uhura, have a minute?”

The lieutenant stopped in her tracks and turned slightly to see who called him. Jim gave her a flirty smile which she rolled her eyes to. “Weren’t you trying to get into Rand’s pants?”

“Yeah, but I decided she wasn’t my type.”

“Uh-huh,” she said disbelieving. “I heard she shot you down.”

“Semantics.”

She stopped and turned sharply on her heel. “What do you want Kirk? I know you didn’t come here to hit on me." 

“You take the fun out of everything you know that,” he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care. Spock’s going to be in the mess hall today, and I don’t want to miss this chance.”

“Look, you help me, and I’ll tell you something about Spock. Something that he likes.”

She crossed her arms, still not quite convinced. “I’m listening.”

He glanced around. Uhura was normally the last one off the bridge after the end of a shift, but one couldn’t be too careful. “I want you to send me everything you can find or know about Vulcan politics and current events in the past 25 years, and make it so even someone like me could read it.”

Uhura’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why?” she demanded.

“Because I want to be more than a dumb slave, and I should know who I’m working for.”

“Tell me two things he likes, and I’ll do it.”

He smiled, pleased she had gone along with it. Desperation made one an easy target.  “There are two things, but only one will work for you.”

“Why’s that?”

Jim looked her up and down. “You look like you bruise easy, and there’s a high probability he’ll hit you across the room if you try it.”

Curiosity was burning in her eyes, she wanted to know, but she was already fighting a losing battle. He was 90% sure Spock preferred men. “Chess. He really likes chess, especially after a shift. He finds it relaxing.”

The information seemed to have caught her off guard, her eyes widening a fraction. “He plays human chess. Not kal-toh?”

“I have no idea what kal-toh is, so yeah, pretty sure. We played every night up until Pike’s _unfortunate_ demise.”

Now she was staring at him like he had grown a second head. He hadn’t said anything strange. Spock played chess. It was a logical and challenging activity. It matched Spock to a T. “I’ll try it,” she said slowly yet uncertainly. If it works, I’ll send it to your PADD.”

“Thanks,” he winked. “You’re a doll.”

“Call me that again, and you’ll find yourself castrated.”

His grin grew wider and a touch more sincere. “I’ll see you around.”

“Rather not.” She continued to the mess hall.

Jim watched her go, feeling a small bit of amusement at the situation. She probably wouldn’t succeed, but there was a chance. She’d get him the information he wanted, and she might be able to get Spock off his ass, no pun intended.

However, he was curious on how Spock would react to the proposal. Smiling, he went to see how it would all unfold.

The hall wasn’t crowded, so Jim located Spock almost instantly. He came just in time too, Uhura had just approached him. Taking a seat by the door, nearly out of sight from Spock but with a clear view, he watched the scene unfold.

At first, Spock grew stiff when she spoke. After a moment of pause, he nodded his head and she took a seat beside him. While Jim couldn’t hear the conversation between them, he could read their body language. Spock remained rather passive, but on edge, but she was determined. She carried the conversation mostly by herself with Spock adding a comment here and there. Jim knew when she asked the question because when Spock nodded to something to Uhura had said her face lit up.

Jim frowned. Well that was rather… unexpected. Soon after Spock’s agreement, he stood up, dumped his tray, and headed towards the exit. There was no possible way for Spock to miss him on his way out. Even Serik glanced at him, and Sovik gave a small nod of acknowledgement, but Spock did not look at him and passed him as if he hadn’t been there at all.

A smile inched his way on Jim face, taking on a hint of amusement. So he was going to do that huh? Well two could play at that game.

* * *

 

Spock wouldn’t say he was avoiding Serik and Sovik. The fact that he had spent the majority of the day in his quarters doing paperwork and checking up on small experiments he had been conducting in his free time was merely a coincidence. Of course after not appearing all day, they knocked on the door to ensure he was alive. That was the only reason he decided to take a late lunch in the mess hall.

With the crew around, they couldn’t speak to him. Both knew he had disappeared last night and under his orders, didn’t follow him to discover who the crew member he was intimate with was.  Unfortunately, he found the presence in the cafeteria to be tiring to his mental shields.

After his night with Kirk, he had spent the next two hours strengthening his shields. Despite wearing his gloves and keeping his shields, the human’s emotions still leaked through. Not much, just pain or pleasure, but it was more than he was willing to feel, making him evaluate what he had felt and the reason for it.

He was conscious of the fact that he was too rough. He had meant to control his strength more and was secretly checking the medical logs to see if Kirk had gone to Doctor McCoy for any bleeding or to heal the bruises he had caused. Perhaps having human partners were not logical after all. He should wait for T’Pau to find him another bondmate or partner for his Pon Farr.

Nyota Uhura’s presence during his lunch period was also unexpected. He suspected she was up to something. An invitation to chess was not one of them. It was her invitation that tipped him off. Only Kirk knew he played chess, and as he suspected, Kirk was sitting in the back watching. 

So, he agreed. He caught the frown on the human’s still slightly swollen lips, and it was difficult for Spock to look away. He had thought he had worked out his lust for the human last night, so he kept his gaze forward and focused only on where we was going. As he walked, he could feel the heat of the human’s gaze following him.

He anticipated Kirk’s reaction. He suspected the human would get angry, call out to him, do something, but he didn’t. He just watched as he walked by. At least the human understood it was a onetime thing.

“Sir, there’s a message from Admiral Komack for you in your quarters,” the sound of the ship intercom brought him out of his thoughts, and he responded to the call with a simple, “Very well, Lieutenant.”

“It appears that you finally have your first mission from Starfleet,” Serik said.

“Yes, but the probability it is a suicide mission is 76.9%” Sovik replied.

“Indeed. Which makes it all the more prudent that all distractions should be put aside for the time being.”

“You’re subtlety leaves much to be desired,” Spock said in barely a whisper but aware that both twins could hear him.

“I am only reminding you of your current status,” Serik said stiffly.

“A reminder that was highly unneeded and unwarranted,” Spock entered his passcode to his room.

“Does that mean you are finished with having intercourse with Ms. Uhura?”

Spock paused. Was that what his interactions with her looked like from the outside? “I did not engage in such activities with the lieutenant. I accepted her request because it was highly probable that I can have her as a temporary ally in the near future.”

Sovik quirked an eyebrow, but it wasn’t directed at Spock but at Serik almost as if saying, “I told you so.” He should have known they were speculating who the person was.

“Then it’s finished,” Serik asked again.

Taking a slow breath, Spock replied, “I do not know.” With that he entered his room and locked the door.

Resisting the urge to rub his overworked eyes, he went to check his new orders.

As he read, his eyebrows grew steadily higher. It was not what he had been anticipating. It was indeed dangerous, but it wasn’t suicidal. In fact, it looked to be quite important to the empire. Even more intriguing was the fact that it was assigned to him by Prince Leopold.  Theoretically, he could complete the mission without him leaving the ship.

Pulling up the ship’s roster, he considered who would be suited for the mission. This was an opportunity too good to mess up.

* * *

 

The files were waiting for him after his dinner with Bones.  Ditching his clothes, he spread out on his bed with his swiped PADD.  He had to hand it to Uhura. The files were easy to read and well organized. There were only a handful of words he didn’t know.

After Vulcan was destroyed, the empire moved in to cash in on the aftermath, exploiting the Vulcans for their valuables and charging high export fees for basic survival necessities, and because they were scattered with no place to call home, the black market caught many young Vulcan’s to sell as slaves for high prices as an endangered species.  It took several years for the Vulcan population to regroup and find what is now known as New Vulcan and longer to get anything to resemble a colony.

Six years after the destruction of Vulcan, the Vulcan’s abolished their high council and restored their monarchy.  T’Pau, descendant of the founder Surak, was the only remaining elder and she was chosen to lead their people in their time of need. Without a council, a decision could be made faster and the colony could respond more quickly. While the articles made it sound like the need for quicker decisions was due to being able to act quicker against threats from Klingons or rebels, Jim had the distinct impression it was from the empire itself. There was a remarkable amount of hate crimes against Vulcan’s since the planet’s destruction. It was only recently that the empire put in a mild effort to stop it. Although, it seemed too late. When Vulcan was destroyed, a little more than 12,000 were left. Now, it was recorded to be approximately half that.

T’Pau was known to have two children. One had died during the planet’s destruction. His name was Sarek. His human concubine, Amanda had taken over his estate and ambassador position due to Sarek’s wife dying 20 years prior, and his only son, Sybok, exiled. The other son had two children. One was dedicated to the growth of the colony and the other was a genetic scientist trying to help the repopulation of their race. However, not much more was said about the grandchildren. There wasn’t even a mention if the surviving son was going to take over the throne.

As for the Vulcan people, they served the empire. Minor positions, the positions no one would want. In fact, besides Spock, there didn’t seem to be any Vulcan in a significant seat of power or influence which was also odd. There was no mention of Spock amongst the Vulcan nobility, though Sovik and Serik were mentioned. The twins were in the household that served directly under the monarchy, and the head of the clan served as T’Pau’s advisor. According to the information, Sovik, the eldest son, should be next in line for the position. So why was a prominent family looking after Spock?

Placing the PADD on his bedside table, he thought about what the dignitaries said about Vulcans. They were terrified of them, but thought they were superior to them. It was very similar to how people saw him really. Sighing, he rolled onto his back.

He didn’t feel sympathy for them, but he understood their situation. Maybe not all of it, but he had a better understanding why Spock put up with as much as he did. He still thought the Vulcan should grow a backbone, but he understood.

The PADD beeped, signaling that he had a message. Rolling over, he checked the sender and growled when he saw it was from Spock.  Somehow, the stupid Vulcan found out about the swiped PADD. Besides, he thought the Vulcan was ignoring him. Reviewing the message, he snorted. Spock was avoiding him. He was sending him on planet with the security team. Guy was a complete asshole.

But Spock could wait until the morning. He wouldn’t be leaving for another day. He yawned and muttered as he closed his eyes, “Night, bastard.”

* * *

 

Spock left his room at exactly 0545. Outside his room, Serik and Sovik stood and Spock raised an eyebrow at seeing them both.  “You are significantly early.”

“Mr. Kirk seemed to be experiencing discomfort in his lower extremities that he had attempted to hide. When I inquired why he was hiding it, he replied, “It was no big deal”. I also observed bruises underneath his shirt and sent him to Doctor McCoy. I suspect he was in another scuffle with a crewmember. I am looking into it.”

“No need. You attention is valuable elsewhere,” Spock said a moment faster than he intended. “Sovik, choose the security members who will go on planet with Mr. Kirk from the list I complied last night.”

“Is it wise to send him?” Serik asked.

“Mr. Kirk can be bought at the right price and has proved himself useful. It is the only reason why I have allowed him to get away with as much as he has. Each of us is still alive due to his diligence.”

“That does not mean he will not betray us.”

Spock nodded. “You are correct, even in this case. Which is why we should ensure that his loyalties stay with me. If we allow him room to move, we can observe whether he will show gratitude for it or take advantage of it.”

“It is a gamble, Captain,” Sovik took a step closer and concern drifted across the bond. “One that may very well cost you your life should you choose incorrectly.”

Their eyes met, and they communicated what they couldn’t with words. Then, bowing his head, Sovik stepped back. “As you command.”

“Serik, see to the prisoner interrogations. Mr. Sulu has been getting carried away.”

“Yes, Captain.” Serik bowed and left to attend to his duties.

Spock turned to Sovik. “As for Mr. Kirk, alternate with Serik in his training. Mr. Kirk can handle himself physically, his formal weapon training is still lacking.”

Sovik looked like he wished to say something, but he didn’t offer any words. He too bowed his head and agreed. Nothing else. If that look in his eyes was anything to go by, it was probably for the best. He followed Spock to the bridge.

* * *

 

Jim took three hypos to the neck after Serik forcibly dragged him to sickbay after his shirt slipped up from Serik throwing him again that morning. He was just sore, no need to throw a fit over it. McCoy of course didn’t see it that way. He figured out what Jim had been up to within a minute.

“Who was it Jim? Those bruises are way too big for it to be a woman’s. Were you raped?” The doctor’s fury was almost as strong as Scotty’s had been, but Jim just rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine, Bones. Down boy.” The response earned him a hypo to the neck.

“I can see where you were tied up, Jim. I handle cases like this all the time. So tell me who it is.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed at the doctor, and he pulled his arm away. “Forget about it,” he snapped. “If I say it doesn’t matter then it doesn’t matter.” His voice dropped into a lethal tone. “So keep your mouth shut and just do your job.”

Bones shook his head, his usual scowl deepening. He thrusted the dermal regenerator into his lap. “Do it yourself. I’ve had enough of your bullshit for today.” The doctor left with a huff, locking his office door behind him.

The doctor’s exit left Jim in a foul mood, and he threw the device across the room and against the doctor’s medical cabinet. A few bottles fell, some shattering upon impact along with the piece of equipment. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that it was going to come out of his allowance.

With agitation, he pulled on his shirt, noting that if he didn’t leave now, he was going to be late. Mentally, he weighed the benefits with the consequences of intentionally being late. Unfortunately, he knew he had pushed his luck for the week. Then again, Spock might still be ignoring his existence.

Sure enough, that was exactly what Spock was doing when he walked onto the bridge that morning. Spock didn’t even twitch at the sound of his approach. Sovik did, glancing him over before taking vigilance once again. Spock didn’t even address him throughout the day. When Spock walked, he expected Jim to move out of his way and when he spoke it was directed at Sovik.

So Jim retaliated, not saying anything to him, not looking at him, not acknowledging him in anyway. If an outsider were asked about it, it was like Jim was guarding air, not an actual person. After all, Spock had to learn that pretending that something didn’t happen meant keeping interaction the same they were prior to the event rather than changing everything. Whether Spock got the message though wasn’t his problem. People would probably assume Spock had some leverage over him and was making him behave. 

And the shift dragged on and on as a result, so Jim let his mind wander, thinking over the chess game with Spock and comparing it with the latest book he had been reading last night in terms of military strategy, listening to the crew’s quiet chit chat and gossip in the background. He caught a few interesting tidbits of information, but he was ready to leave once the shift ended.  With Serik’s absence, his presence was required longer than usual, stretching the normal 8 hour shift to 10.

Once freed, Jim stopped at the mess for dinner. McCoy wasn’t there, and he chose not to dwell on it. Tomorrow, he’d be separated from Spock, really separated from him, and he might pick up something from the security team he could use to his advantage later. He was looking forward to a day out.

* * *

 

The following morning, Jim was up bright and early. The ship was at their destination, and he managed to catch himself an early breakfast, sneaking a donut into his diet since the doctor was still avoiding him. He still had the donut in his mouth when he entered the room for the briefing.

There were six men in red uniforms already seated around the table waiting for the briefing to start. Jim gave a wave to Farrell, taking a seat beside him. Sovik nodded at his presence. With a wave of his hand, the relevant information pertaining to the mission appeared on the holoscreen at the center of the table.

“All of you should have received the mission details on your PADD and gone over the specifics with your team member yesterday evening. I will assume that you have read the contents, so I will be brief. This planet has one of the rebel bases on its surface, acquired from the information the captain was able to siphon from the enemy’s ship during the star base attack.

“This base is significant to the rebel cause. It is a small compound with approximately 100 inhabitants, but it is their scientific base, and there is reason to believe they are developing a super weapon.” A 3D blueprint of the building highlighted the path to where the weapon was suspected to be held.

“Your objective is to quietly take out the base and ensure that the no distress signal leaves the planet. Prince Leopold wishes for the rebels to discover their loss as late as possible. There will be two teams, each beamed down to separate coordinates, Alpha Team on the east side and Beta Team to the northern hills.” The blueprints zoomed out into a map of the surrounding area and two dots appeared showing their beaming points. “You have your team assignments. Ferrell and Nicolson are captains of their respective teams. You will beam down in 12.59 minutes. Gear up and be ready. You are dismissed.”

Everyone stood in unison and hurried to the locker room to change into their gear. Jim followed Farrell, having never been to the security locker rooms before.  Each member went to their assigned locker, pulling out dark blue uniforms. Each member changed into their gear, putting on their uniforms, adjusting their packs, and grabbing their plasma rifles.  Each member was dressed and ready to go in less than 2 minutes, and they filed out to the transporter room.

Jim was part of Alpha team. There were four on his team, including himself. The plasma rifle was heavier than he was used to. He had never used a military grade plasma rifle before. Still a gun was a gun. It was point and shoot. He did grab an extra weapon, hiding it in his uniform.

“Nicolson is the second best sniper on the ship. He’ll keep us covered,” Farrell assured him as they stepped onto the PADD.

“Who’s the first?”

Smiling a bit, Farrell looked at Sovik who operated the controls. “He may suck at hand to hand, especially compared to his twin, but put a weapon in his hand, and he outranks Nicolson by a parsec.”

“If you are done speaking, your beam down will commence in 30 seconds,” Sovik interrupted them. Jim knew Sovik was good with a weapon, but he was a bit surprised that his skill had gained him support from Farrell.

In exactly 30 seconds later, Sovik activated the transporter.

A storm was raging on the planet. The drops were large and heavy and slightly burned when they touched his unprotected skin. The team pulled up their hoods, to protect them from the rain and pulled their goggles in place.

With the storm, the guards’ visibility was low and the surrounding security would be less effective with the acidic rain. Beta Team would be taking care of the outside guards. On their mark, Alpha Team would go inside and quietly take care of everyone.

No one spoke as they waited, keeping their backs to the wind. The temperature was quickly dropping, and the anticipation was building, and Jim was enjoying the growing stress caused from it. He nibbled on his lips, ignoring the sting on his face from the rain.

Farrell turned, signaling with his hand to move forward. They emerged from the tree line, two by two. The two in the front, Farrell and Vo, took aim, shooting anyone who emerged for their rounds.  Jim and his partner, Phelps, ran around them to work on opening the door. Jim hooked up the necessary wires from the biometric scanner to the security override device. Phelps worked on disabling the lock.

Kirk aimed his weapon at the door waiting for it to open. Farrell and Vo watched their flank. The moment the door opened, Phelps yanked the wires away and shoved the device into his pack. Kirk took point, leading the way, unleashing several shots and killing three people in the access hallway. They were entering from the back of the building near the power generators. Jim kneeled, keeping cover for Phelps, so he could unlock the power room.  

Phelps opened the door and Kirk and Phelps rushed the room, killing the guard and operator. Farrell and Vo covered their back, staying in the hallway and watching both directions.  He assisted Phelps in setting up the device in the center of the room.

“Estimated time for detonation,” Farrell whispered.

“4… 3… 2… 1…” The device whined, growing louder and louder in pitch until it reached past human hearing and then, all the computers and generators around them sparked, promptly  overheating and destroying every computer chip in a 2 mile radius not protected against the wave it emitted.

“Deployment successful,” Phelps said, picking up his gun yet again.

“You know what to do. No one leaves,” Farrell whispered, just as people came to check the power room. Farrell and Vo started to mow them down, their goggles highlighting the forms of each person who came running in the dark.

Everyone nodded, and the two left down the hall.  Kirk and Phelps exited into the hall turning the same direction the previous group took, but took an immediate left down the stairs. The complex had three floors, the ground floor, a second floor, and a large underground basement.  Farrell was going to go up after taking care of the ground floor, leaving Phelps and himself going down. Beta team would take care of anyone who tried to escape.

Taking the stairs, Jim and Phelps mowed down the stream of people leaving the labs, an easy objective when the stairwell was so narrow and everyone was unarmed.  Some turned around, exiting the stairwell, but there was nowhere to run. The basement level was underground far enough that there would be no windows and the only exit was the non working turbolift.  They were trapped.

Methodically, they cleaned out the labs, killing everyone they ran across as the scientists ran around and stumbled in the dark, unable to notice them until after the rifles had been fired.  Jim mentally kept count of how many were killed to ensure that the amount killed all together matched the estimate.  They swept the entire area twice before heading to their destination.

Phelps went to work destroying the device past recognition while Jim burned whatever physical evidence was left. All the computers were beyond repair and the information was wiped already. Still to be certain, he shot at the remains once Phelps was done with his business, and proceeded to do the same to all the labs.

“This is Farrell, ground floor and second floor clear, all computers confirmed destroyed,” the radio crackled in Jim’s ear.

“Sub-floor is cleared as well,” Phelps replied.

“Surrounding complex is also secured.  Beta Team moving in.”

Phelps sighed and stretched. “That was easy,” the man’s deep British accent reverberated in the silent room. “Not bad for your first mission. I guess the captain wasn’t crazy putting you on the team.”

“Thanks,” Jim replied dryly. “I’m going to take a look around. See if there’s anything interesting.”

“Yeah whatever.” Phelps was distracted, taking the watch off one of the scientists.

Rolling his eyes, Jim left the area.  The chances of missing something were slim, but he wanted to get away. It would take Beta team 10 minutes to get into the building. In that time, he might as well look around at his own pace.

He wandered into the director’s office. It was large and spacious, but still an office with a computer and chairs like the rest of them, but there was a display behind the desk that intrigued him. The case was filled with old stone tablets, with etched inscriptions on their surface. He didn’t recognize any of the symbols, but he wasn’t experienced in xenolinguistics or archeology, so it wasn’t a surprise.  Unable to help himself, he reached out to touch the exposed artifacts. Under his touch, one of the tablets moved out of place. Something about the display seemed weird. The way the center tablets of the display were arranged was odd. The artifacts were grouped together compared to the others, as if to conceal something behind them.  

He moved a few of the tablets and felt along the back wall, it was rather smooth under his touch. Perhaps it was just paranoia. Maybe there was a cultural significance to the arrangement or some other meaning. But it was always safer to be thorough. Using the butt of his rifle, he stuck the wall, destroying the plaster and revealing a seam in the metal behind it. Smirking a bit, he took out his knife, forcing the tip into the seam, trying to pry open the panel.  The lock broke rather easily as if it was designed to be easily bypassed.  Within the panel were a vanilla paper folder, a tape deck, and some sort of stone artifact.

 “Everyone regroup on the first floor. We will sweep the area one last time before reporting in,” the radio crackled.

Jim reached in and grabbed the items, stuffing them into his bag. It was a whim. He didn’t know what he was going to do with it. He was no scientist, but when someone went about hiding something like research data, there was usually a good reason. Maybe he could sell it to Spock for a price or something.

Hurrying, he went to the meeting point where the others were waiting. They searched the area over again, a few of the men grabbing things off the corpses.  Jim made it a point to keep his eyes forward when they headed upstairs, overlooking a child that had been shot between the eyes.

The mission had been executed perfectly, and all looked quiet from outside the facility. Farrell called for a beam out the moment they finished. The group still didn’t say much until they rematerialized on the ship, pulling off their goggles and hoods as they congratulated each other on a job well done. Spock was waiting for them, back straight and hands behind his back, looking over each and every one of them.

Farrell stepped forward saluting, “Sir.”

“Farrell. I expect your report after you have all been looked over by Doctor McCoy. Debriefing will be held at exactly 1330 hours in meeting room A. “

“Sir,” they all saluted except for Kirk, still pretending that Spock didn’t exist. For a second, Jim felt his gaze linger on him, making his body hot in response. All too soon the feeling was gone.

Spock made his exit and the group left at their own pace, taking off their gear in the process. “I say we play some poker tonight. My wallet is a bit too light,” Vo yawned.

“Making it lighter won’t help,” another member joked, slapping the man’s shoulder. “But I’m in. I thought I could find something valuable while we were down there. Couldn’t find anything halfway decent. Damn broke bastards.”

“You going to join us, Kirk?” Farrell asked, pausing long enough for Jim to catch up to them.

“Maybe next time. I’m a bit tired,” Jim placed the rifle back in the armory.  “Next time for sure.”

The others shrugged not really caring and continued their conversation. Listening with half an ear, Jim got out of the uniform, disposing of it properly and redressing in his standard uniform. It took some creativity to smuggle his finding, but thankfully, the others were preoccupied with the details of their poker game.

His room was his first stop, hiding the files and tape deck in the speaker for the red alert located above the door and then went to medbay for his mandatory check up.  Bones was still avoiding him. Some doctor name M’Benga looked him over instead, giving him a fit bill of health. Jim waited a few extra minutes to no avail. McCoy didn’t leave his office while he was there at all. Not that he cared or anything.

He had just enough time to grab a sandwich for lunch and was early for the debriefing. Farrell and Nicolson gave a perfect recount of the mission. The experimental EMP device detonated flawlessly, and the rebels didn’t have a chance to call for help or even defend themselves. Without technology, they were helpless. Phelps reported the destruction of the weapon, and Jim verified its destruction of everything pertaining to it. There were 121 rebel casualties, and the estimated time before the rebels figured it out was approximately a week.

Spock asked questions here and there to clarify a few points, but there wasn’t much to ask or say. Farrell and Nicolson would have to turn in a formal report by tomorrow and the rest were free to leave and retire for the evening.

Jim was the first one up an out, eager to look at what he found. He was free for the rest of the day and he wanted to take advantage of it. He locked the door and after a moment retrieved the folder from its hiding place. Smiling, he sat on his bed and opened it, reading the top of the first page:

_The Tantalus Field Project._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long. It was hard writing this chapter. Not sure if I'm happy with it. For some reason, the twins guessing and arguing about Spock's sex life amuses me.
> 
> BTW does anyone speak fluent Japanese? I need a conversation partner to get some practice in before I go to Japan. I need to be able to survive for 5 months!


	15. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, this is a pretty boring chapter. I meant to update sooner, but I seriously couldn't figure out what to do for this chapter. The beginning and end were the only important bits, so I apologize for the shortness of it. I've also been working on my own original story. I thought I'd try sending it to a publisher once rewritten. I doubt it'll be accepted but if not, I'll put it on amazon. Yeah...we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Also if you haven't watched, Yuri!!! on Ice, get your asses in gear. The adorableness has reached new heights. Hurray for Japan for putting in a homosexual couple without making it a big deal in the show and labeling it under the sports genre anyway instead of under (shounen ai or boys love if your unaware of the term). Even Crunchyroll supports the pairing. Victuuri!!!!
> 
> I hope everyone had a good holiday, and Happy New Years! Please drink responsibly.

Spock pored over the mission report, composing his own. As he typed, he wondered why the prince would ask him specifically to oversee the mission. The prince was not known for doing things like this. Yet the royal seal was at the bottom of the orders. Setting the stylus down, he read over the contents one last time before he sent it to headquarters.

It was 0215. It had taken him 22 percent longer to compose the report than he had anticipated. He had been in the captain’s chair for a week, and he was just setting the last of his affairs in order. Besides choosing the next first officer and science officer that is. But until he chose new officers, the work will continue to pile up. Of course work wasn’t the only thing on his mind. Intense blue eyes…

His terminal beeped, signaling he had a message from Starfleet HQ. He mentally sighed, noting to himself that the communication officer on duty was intentionally trying to get him in trouble by not informing him first and hoping he’d miss the call. Fortunately, he was awake and in his room. He straightened in his seat, ready to deal with whatever Starfleet wanted to throw his way.

When the call connected, he couldn’t hide the shock on his face, his eyebrows shooting up and hiding under his hairline. The call wasn’t from anyone from Starfleet. The being on the other side had long, messy, graying hair, pulled back into a very loose ponytail, his clothes were ragged from wear, a Van Dyke styled beard that had not been trimmed properly, and just peeking out from under the hair were pointed ears. The man’s dark brown, almost black, eyes crinkled, and he gave Spock a sincere smile.  “Spock,” he said warmly.

Gathering his controls, he pushed back the shock. “Sybok.”

The man laughed, clearly delighted. “You remember me. I’m so glad.” His eyes had a hint of sadness in them as he regarded Spock. “I was afraid you wouldn’t. We were so young when we met. The last time I saw you, you barely came up to my knees.” Sybok chuckled.

“Why have you called? How did you get access to the ship’s computer to send this signal directly here?”

“Do not worry Spock. I have ensured that you will not get in trouble for this, and do not bother trying to trace the call to pinpoint my location. It would be a pointless endeavor. As for how… well… I suppose you never had the chance to have father teach you about computers. He was very gifted with them.” Sybok sighed. “I’m actually relieved. You look healthy. You grew up very well.”

“Your sentimentality and emotionalisms is highly unsightly. I will ask for you to desist this once.”

“Yes, I suppose it must be strange for you, to see a Vulcan not follow the ways of Surak, but it really is a liberating experience,” he grinned. “But I did not call you to persuade you to my ideals. You are far too important to have you join my cause.”

“I do not understand. Explain yourself,” Spock demanded.

“I called to congratulate you. Your rise to the captaincy was unexpected, but I am quite proud of you. You are attempting to help our people. I have noticed the empire’s change toward Vulcan’s since you have joined. You have worked hard.”

“It is illogical to take such a dangerous risk to only wish me congratulations.”

“True, but it is part of why. Your rise to the captain’s seat has become problematic for me.”

“So you are still leading the rebels.”

Sybok gave him a slightly sheepish smile. “I do not wish to fight you, brother. You are my only family remaining.”

“I cannot say I have the same reservations. You are against the empire.”

“I am well aware.” Sybok closed his eyes, his smile gone and replaced with grief. When he opened them, his expression was one Spock had grown accustomed to while serving on a primarily human ship. It was determination and ambition. “I know you have no attachment to me, but I have always watched over you from afar. That is why I am calling. I want you to know that I will try everything in my power to avoid direct conflict with your ship, but I will not stop my cause. I want to see the empire fall. It is only a matter of time until it does. It is inevitable. It has grown too large and wasted too many resources, but it does not mean I want to wait to fall on its own. I want our people to survive as much as you do. I will fight you if you hinder us too much.” His expression softened. “Despite this, I wish to say that if you ever have need me, I will do whatever I can.”

“I do not need your help or sympathy, but if you wish to help then tell me, are you the Romulan the empire suspects?”

“Yes, it is as you suspect.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed. “And if the empire discovers it is not a Romulan but a Vulcan who leads the rebels, what do you speculate will happen to the rest of our people, Sybok? Is that what you call helping us?”

“How long until the empire is overthrown Spock?”

Spock’s lips thinned, but he answered, “250 years.”

“And how long before the Vulcan race is all but died out? Before no matter how hard we try, it will be beyond saving?”

Spock remained silent.

“The illogic of waste, Spock. The waste of lives, potential, resources, time. I submit to you that the empire is illogical, because it cannot endure.”

“Do you suggest that I am illogical for being a willing part of it?”

Sybok shook his head. “No. You keep the wound the problem causes from getting worse. A temporary treatment. It is needed, but it also cannot endure the test of time. I plan to administer a more permanent solution.”

“Metaphors, Sybok? You sound like a human.”

Sybok smiled a little. “Perhaps. It is unfortunate, but I am out of time. Take care of yourself Spock. I hope we do not meet on the battlefield.”

“Do not call again.”

“Of course.” Sybok ended the call.

Spock, pressed the button for the ship intercom. “Spock to Serik. Spock to Serik.”

“Serik, here Captain.”

“Come to my quarters immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Spock took Sybok at his word that the call was untraceable. There was a reason the empire had yet to find the rebel leaders. The people at the top knew what they were doing, but Spock could at least protect his position. Exactly 40.353 seconds later, Serik entered his quarters dressed in dark green meditation robs, followed by Sovik in black. They must have been coming from a joint meditation session.

“You were meditating.”

“It is of no consequence, Captain. We are here to serve,” Serik rebuked Spock’s silent apology. “What is it that you require of me?”

“Sybok.”

The twins shared a look with each other. “He has communicated with you?” Sovik asked.

“Yes. I want the ship’s computer security tightened, and I want the one most qualified no matter his rank and clearance. However, if it is an uncleared crewmember, keep watch over him.”

“Of course sir, we will report back to you as soon as we have selected someone.”

The twins bowed and left.

He knew there was little else he could do. He knew little of Sybok, and that put him at a large disadvantage. That was one thing he would not tolerate, having no control when it was within his power. He would not allow Sybok to continue going unchecked. He would make sure of that.

* * *

So it turned out, after four days of reading and looking up words, that Jim just could not understand what he had picked up. He lacked the scientific know how, much like how couldn’t understand much of how the warp core work but could fix it if asked. Added to the fact his vocabulary was middle/high school level, he spent a lot of time just looking up definitions. All he could really understand was that it was some sort of weapon, and for him, that was enough to keep it safe guarded.

As for his shifts, it passed by with Spock pretending he didn’t exist and Jim returning the favor. The only one who seemed to notice was Sovik, raising an eyebrow when Spock didn’t even make a comment when he was a minute late the first day after the mission. That day was also a bit weird in the fact Spock had spent quite a bit of time with a young Ensign named Chekov.

It wasn’t just Spock though. Both Serik and Sovik were constantly looking over the ensign’s shoulder at something he was typing.  They kept muttering in Russian so Jim couldn’t overhear which annoyed him, and since he was ignoring Spock, he couldn’t ask.

He also still wasn’t talking to Bones.  With Scotty busy doing repairs to something Jim didn’t understand, he found himself extremely bored. So it left him wandering the ship and learning more about the ship’s crew and inner workings, but even that didn’t keep him occupied. Jim was finding himself increasingly irritable as a result.

Jim picked up his tray from the replicator and turned to find a spot to sit in the crowded mess. Finding a spot, he took a step towards the seat when his eyes and McCoy’s met across the hall. There was a moment where Jim held his breath. Just when he thought that perhaps something would happen, Bones looked away and got up, leaving the cafeteria without so much as dumping his tray.

Irritation swelled up in Jim, then anger. He turned, getting ready to throw away his food after losing his appetite, not seeing the person who had attempted to walk around him impatiently. Jim’s hot soup, spilled onto the man’s front, making him yell out in a mixture of surprise and pain.  Jim almost laughed at his luck, but his foul mood won out. Dropping the tray without a care, he didn’t try to clean up the mess or apologize. He just wanted to go sulk in the solace of his room.

The man grabbed his arm, yanking him back when Jim attempted to pass. “I think you owe me an apology, you little sheep fucker.” The man had a mid-western, country accent, reminiscent of his mother’s.

Cruelty curled his lips into a twisted smile at the reminder.  “Let go. You really don’t want to piss me off today.” With a yank, he attempted to free his arm. The man didn’t like that.

Pulling Jim back with brute force, he raised his fist and punched the side of Jim’s face, hitting his cheekbone with a crack. It was the only attack, most likely to show off his strength and scare him.

Jim looked up from underneath his bangs, his blue eyes shining under the fluorescent light promised death. The look alone was enough to send a sliver of fear down the much larger man’s spine. Before he knew it, Jim broke out of his grip and delivered two sharp and precise jabs to kidney.

The man staggered back, but raised his fists as a boxer would, taking two jabs towards Jim’s face. Jim dodged, leaning back just out of reach. Jim then retaliated while he was open and delivered an upper cut to the man’s chin, making his head snap back and a pained grunt.

The man fell to the ground, but he wasn’t ready to quit. He grabbed the dropped tray, and used it to hit Jim’s knee. A muffled cry left Jim as his knee buckled. The man raised the tray again, intending to strike, but Jim grabbed it and easily pulled it out of the man’s hand. He backhanded the man with the tray across the face.  The man’s head snapped to the side. With another strike with the tray, the tray bent. With annoyance, Jim threw the tray away, resorting to his fist, hitting the man over and over until his knuckles split even though the man had gone unconscious several blows ago. He kept punching and punching until he felt someone pull him off with one hand and shove him against the wall, forearm pressed against his windpipe.

Sovik’s face didn’t register with Jim for several seconds. The blood pounding in his ears made him deaf to the Vulcan’s words.

“Mr. Kirk, have you regained your senses?” The Vulcan asked. From the tone he must have asked multiple times. His eyes locked on Sovik’s then over his shoulder. Sure enough, Spock was standing by the entrance, staring at him with those cold brown eyes that made his blood boil.

“Mr. Kirk,” Sovik said again, regaining Jim’s focus.  Reluctantly, Jim nodded as much as he was able, and Sovik eased up on his throat. “One of you escort Lieutenant Heinz to medbay,” Sovik ordered.

No one in the lunch room readily volunteered. But with Sovik’s stare eventually two communication officers came forward and carried the unconscious man out of the mess hall.

When Sovik turned around to deal with Jim, he was staring at Spock yet again. It was a focused stare, but the feelings behind it were hard to interpret. He didn’t resist when Sovik handcuffed him and escorted him out.

“He has been increasingly violent since returning from his mission,” Serik said to Spock as the door closed behind his brother and Kirk.

“He seems to be experiencing high levels of anxiety which has manifested in altercations amongst the crew,” Spock replied.

The reply however gained Serik’s attention. “You have been restless as well. I wish to assure you that the security has been successfully updated. Sovik has overseen it himself.”

“I am well aware.”

Serik kept his eyes on Spock. He was speaking less as if thinking of something else entirely. Being distracted was a dangerous, and he could not figure out why his young master allowed his mind to drift. “What shall be done with Kirk?”

“…Punish him as you see fit.”

Serik blinked slowly in surprise.  “You leave it under my purview?”

“Do not kill him.” Spock left. Without him. Perhaps Spock was growing ill. He would have to discuss it with Sovik.

* * *

 

Jim couldn’t really remember what happened in the mess hall. His mind just went blank when he started beating the asshole half to death with his fists. He didn’t know why he was angry and restless. He didn’t know why he wanted to talk to Bones about it first then grew angrier at the idea when he realized he couldn’t. He didn’t really begin to register his surroundings and situation again until after being whipped with a cat tail and was laid out on his bed in his room.

His back stung and he was sure he was getting blood on his sheets, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He was miserable, and he just couldn’t understand why.

With his head resting on his arms, he tried to keep his breathing shallow to minimize the pain. When someone inputted the override for his room, his body tensed, causing him to hiss softly.

“Stay where you are kid. They did a number on your back.”

At the familiar southern drawl, Jim disregarded the command sitting up more. “What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

“For the love of─ just listen and lay back down.” McCoy snapped, setting his medical bag onto the night stand.

Hesitantly, Jim laid back down on his stomach. “Why are you here?” he asked quietly. It almost sounded subdued.

McCoy ruffled through his bag, contemplating what to say. “Scotty told me what happened after I left the mess. You’re an idiot you know that.”

Jim huffed. “If that all you have to say then get out. I don’t need your help.”

Growling, McCoy slapped on a rag covered in antiseptic solution. “I’m trying to apologize you idiot!”

Jim clenched his teeth, trying to ride out the sting. Seeing his misery, the doctor sighed, letting out his anger.  He picked up the cloth and tenderly started cleaning the wounds. In a softer voice, he said, “I’ve been in Starfleet since I started pursuing my med degree. I’ve seen cases like yours a lot. I’ve seen it drive people to take their life because they didn’t seek help or want to talk about it. . . I like you kid. I got upset ‘cause I didn’t want to see you destroy yourself due to your stubbornness.”

How was he to respond to something like that? Jim tilted his head so he could see the doctor. It didn’t look like he had slept well the past several days. He had a bit of a beard, his t-shirt was wrinkled more than usual and his hair looked greasy.

“It wasn’t rape,” Jim said, burying his face back in his arms. “It was entirely consensual.”

Even muffled the doctor heard him and didn’t push for more of an explanation. If it were Scotty who had been angry at him, would he have been this miserable? Probably not. Scotty was fun to hang out with, but McCoy was different. McCoy was soft, sentimental, and vulnerable. He had seen McCoy at his worst. Knew the history with his family. He knew little about Scotty’s personal life.  But that was why it was hard to tell McCoy about his fling. McCoy was closer to him than he’d like to admit. If McCoy used it against him, he’d hesitate. Scotty not so much. Not that he didn’t trust Scotty, he just wasn’t as attached. There was still separation between them.

“Well, it’s not as bad as it probably feels,” McCoy said, running the dermal generator, closing the wounds. He didn’t heal it entirely however. He still placed bandages over them. “It’ll be sore for a couple days, and you’ll need to be careful not to stretch the skin or it’ll tear open. If I heal it anymore I’ll be way past the recommended usage of using this thing per month.”

Jim didn’t make a complaint and the doctor seemed to falter a bit as if unsure.  “I guess I’ll see you around then Jim. Keep your ass out of trouble.” McCoy lifted his hand as if to slap his shoulder but stopped. Closing his hand, he lowered it and got up, packing his bag quickly.

He was almost out the door when Jim spoke up, barely a whisper, “Thanks Bones.”

The doctor stopped then smiled just a little. “No problem kid.”

* * *

 

Spock turned off the terminal. It took most of his controls to fight off the pounding headache. It seemed he couldn’t put off naming a first officer any longer. He had just named Sulu as his XO.  Sulu wasn’t his first, second, or even third choices, but McCoy had no command experience, Scotty would refuse to leave engineering, and Uhura had just graduated from the academy. The people who wouldn’t stab him in the back were occupied with their own important positions, leaving Sulu as the only qualified officer who could handle his current duties and XO duties. For now, it would appease him, but he was well aware of his ambition for the captain seat.

Now he just had to choose a new chief science officer. He did not want to admit it, but he was more reluctant to give that position away. Without his First Officer duties, it would lighten his load, but it would look bad to keep hold of another department.  He glanced down at the PADD still displaying potential candidates. He could take the night to meditate on it.

His PADD beeped signaling the arrival of what he knew to be the medical report for the lieutenant. Whether he lived or died was rather insignificant. He had no real power or authority, and he projected that any retaliations were 33.24 percent likely to occur against Kirk. The report could wait until tomorrow morning.

Getting up, he changed into a fresh uniform. While he was off hours, he still preferred the uniform to his casual wear. His Vulcan attire often garnered too much attention. As his new position began to settle, he knew the assassination attempts would spike briefly, as the assailants would believe Spock’s operative’s would drop their guard at that time.  There was no need to increase their awareness of him in the process due to his clothes.

Spock tugged his sleeves down, checked his image in the mirror, and left his room. He nodded his head to Sovik who fell in line behind him.

The rec room was rather large. It had a billiards table, gaming station, table for cards, and a large sectional sofa that provide a place to read or talk. Spock made his way to a corner table where a 3-D chess set up, ready to play. Behind the white side, sat Nyota Uhura. She was attractive for a human female, and that was the only thing he acknowledged about her appearance. He had no desire to pursue her.

He sat down across from her, and she smiled. “I’m glad you could make it Captain.”

“Did you believe something would prevent me from reaching my destination?”

Uhura chuckled. “No, but you could have cancelled.”

“I do not make a habit of making appointments and then cancelling them without proper reasons,” Spock said, waiting for her to make the first move.

“I suppose you aren’t.” She moved her pawn forward. “I must admit I never played chess before.”

He didn’t say he suspected it, but he did feel a brief flash of disappointment that she would most likely not provide a suitable challenge. He did not advertise that he played chess, so he had been caught off guard by her request to play. With his lack of a worthy opponent as of late, he had been anticipating this match. However, he was not fond of wasting time on individual pursuits that would not provide mental stimuli which she would not be capable of supplying at this time. “It is an adequate use of one’s free time.”

She laughed. “I can think of better ones, but it does give us a chance to talk.”

“…. I suppose.”

She hadn’t missed his hesitation in his answer; however, she did not say a word about it. “So I read your dissertation. It’s interesting. Do you think you could explain more on the polarity issue caused by ion storms and its effects on starship technology?”

The hope that perhaps he could get a promising conversation had him speaking quickly and evenly, going into depth about his findings and subsequent research immediately, only realizing after several minutes that she was lost and hadn’t a clue of what he was speaking of. In fact, he wasn’t sure if she was even listening. She was staring at him, like a le-matya with its prey, and it made him exceedingly uncomfortable. His speaking slowed, realizing this was a woman who had tried to poorly assassinate him and bribe him with Vulcan port. She was here with an agenda as he was.

“I apologize Lieutenant. I forget you are not one of my science officers and have begun what most closely relates to as a lecture.”

“Don’t apologize,” she almost purred, leaning forward. “It just means you’re comfortable around me, making you forget something like that. I bet you would have made one hell of a professor.”

“I applied for the astrophysics and xenolinguistics positions at the academy but was turned down.” Spock moved his queen, delaying Uhura’s inevitable defeat. It turned the lacking game into a more interesting one, seeing how long he could prolong her defeat without her notice and corner her. He was even having a mental match against his own pieces around hers.

“Were you more interested in teaching than field work?”

“I believed teaching at the academy would have been preferable to field work; however, I was convinced that if I were to serve on a ship, I would be able to survey unknown worlds.”

She snorted. “You mean they threatened you to serve on a ship, so you couldn’t interact with all the young kids coming in and corrupt them with Vulcan teachings or something like that.” Spock sat in silence, confirming her suspicion. “Maybe one day, they’ll let you”

“Perhaps, though it is unlikely. Being on the _Enterprise_ is satisfactory.” He moved his pawn. “Checkmate.”

She looked at the bored, jaw dropped. “That didn’t even last 15 minutes.”

“You might benefit from additional practice,” Spock said standing up.

“Is that an invitation?” She smiled.

Spock was about to deny it, and clarify that he would wait until she was more worthy of his time, yet he stopped himself. “I will meet you on the bridge tomorrow morning.” With a bow of his head, he gave the customary farewell.

In the corner of his eyes he could see Sovik watching over him in the distance. With a tilt of his eyebrow, he signaled Sovik to head back before him. The older Vulcan stayed rooted in his spot a second longer than needed before leaving.

Spock wandered the ship, taking the least favored routes to monitor the crew’s activity. The transition between his and Pike’s captaincy had been rather smooth. The efficiency had stayed nearly constant. His years of planning had ensured that. If he managed to get through the next four months, his likely hood of surviving would increase by the day. That would be the most beneficial outcome. The information available to captains could prove to be useful to him in the future as well. It would be the optimal outcome if that were the case.

He was passing through the gym’s observation floor, a room where people could observe the gym above. It was often used by the security team when performing their monthly sparring tournaments. It was also the quickest way to reach the second set of labs on the other side.  As he walked, he got glimpse of wheat blond hair down below. Spock slowed his gait, to peer down below.

His mouth went dry.

Jim had his shirt off, wearing tight workout pants, punching the sand bag with all his might. He had already worked up a sweat. His hair was drenched and his skin glistening. His fists were raw, having neglected to tape them, but his blue eyes saw nothing but the bag before him.

This was the first time Spock had ever come across Jim in the middle of his workout undisturbed. He did not realize he had stopped to watch until Jim had come to a stop, wiping his forehead from sweat and gathering his clothes. Changing destinations, Spock set a brief pace, managing to arrive before Kirk left for the showers.

The human looked startled at his sudden presence. His expressive eyes showed surprise that quickly morphed into annoyance at the sight of him. Then, he looked away, intending to go back to ignoring him.

The thought of being ignored made anger boil up inside Spock. Without warning, he grabbed Kirk, slamming him against a nearby wall and smashing his lips against his in a bruising kiss.

Jim responded at first then proceeded to punch Spock, forcing the Vulcan to put distance between them else risk being hit again. “Really? You haven’t even look at me since that night and several days later, this is what you do?” The human’s tone was full of annoyance at first glance, but Spock could hear the amusement underneath it, as if it was all somehow working out in some masterplan. That confidence and sharp intelligence that attracted him and made the human desirable.

“You do not seem perturbed by my actions. Rather, you seem to enjoy them,” Spock responded, his voice deeper than usual.

A smile curled on Jim’s lips. “If I’m going to become your fuck buddy, I think we should lay out some ground rules.”

“As it seems one time was not sufficient for either party, I agree.”

Jim took a few steps towards the door. “Think it can wait until we get to your room? I have a few bruises I have to pay you back for.”

Spock passed by him, eying his body in the process. “I find your suggestion, highly agreeable.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment Please.


	16. Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait everyone. I got distracted by another project. Drowning whispers to be exact. You can check out the prologue in Cardinal Rule as a special. In another note, I'm in Japan. I'm super tired, so let me know if there are mistakes.

Jim stood in the sonic shower, cleaning off last night’s activities from his body. They never really did get around to speaking much about those rules, but he did understand the gist of what Spock wanted. After ten days of this new game, the unspoken rules were obvious. There would be no sharing the afterglow or sleeping over. Right after they finished, Spock had cleaned himself up and left. The second was no talking during the process. It was to remain impersonal. No talking, no kissing. It was pretty much straight to business.

The stated rules that were talked about briefly were as follows: it should never be spoken about, Spock would tell Sovik and Serik that Jim was to be his bodyguard during these rendezvous, and lastly, Jim wasn’t to sleep with anyone else while they were sleeping with one another. The last rule ticked Jim off, and Spock’s response was that he rather not catch an STD from him. Jim begrudgingly agreed. It wasn’t like he was successful in getting anyone else to sleep with him.

Jim stepped out of the shower. It could be worse. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy it. Despite Spock leaving a few bruises, Jim kind of got off on the adrenaline. Frustrated at the last thought, he rubbed his head. Something was definitely wrong with him.

He grabbed an apple for a quick breakfast, and went to the labs. Spock was unofficially off duty today, but the Vulcan never liked to idol. He spent as much time in the labs as he could. Today however, he was sitting in his office with a line of people waiting outside, all in science uniforms. Jim took residence at the door, watching as they came in one after another. He caught a glimpse of one of the twins inside with Spock when someone came out.

Briefly wondering what was going on, he ate his apple in silence, watching the scientists enter the office one by one. Thankfully, none of them seemed to be armed. Unfortunately, that also meant it was a rather boring shift. Serik came to relieve him around lunch.

Seeing McCoy in the mess at their usual time, made him smile, especially when the gruff doctor turned and waved him over.

At first, he thought the doctor would be nervous or awkward around him, but there was none of the sort. The doctor was as boisterous as ever, complaining about losing a bet with one of the nurses which Jim poked and teased him about.

There was a moment, when McCoy caught a glance at Jim’s wrists, newly raw from where Spock had tied him up the previous night, where the doctor’s face clouded over before he looked away, drinking from his cup. Whatever McCoy wanted to say, he kept it to himself.

Jim found himself looking at his food at the time, unfamiliar with the feeling that made him want to assure McCoy. He didn’t need to justify himself. It was his life. Besides, he wouldn’t let someone tie him up if he wasn’t confident he could get out of it or defend himself. Plus, he knew Spock only did it to ensure his own safety.

Their lunch together didn’t last long. McCoy was called to the ICU for a stabbing down in engineering. Jim was betting it was Scotty getting impatient with an ensign again. Though it was early, he decided to report for duty, heading towards the bridge.  When he entered the floor via the turbolift, he saw the ensign, Checkov, muttering something in Russian to Serik yet again, hurriedly pushing a PADD into the Vulcan’s hands.

Something had to be going on, but Russian was a language he didn’t know, and he had already decided that if he had to focus on learning only one language, Vulcan would be the key. True, Spock and the others didn’t use it often, but if they did, it had to be something extremely important.

Checkov left the opposite direction and Serik looked up, spotting him immediately. “Mr. Kirk,” he greeted with the slightest tilt of his head then disappeared behind the bridge doors. Clicking his tongue, he followed.

* * *

“Alright everyone, this is the kid I’ve been telling you about, Jim Kirk,” Ferrell slapped Jim’s back hard enough to have Jim stumble forward a bit. “I’m sure some of you have already met him on the last mission.”

The room held little more than a large circular table that fit eight people around it. There was a plush black leather sofa in a corner as well as a holo playing some new movie on the wall, but the lighting was dim and smoke filled the room even with the ship’s ventilation system working at full force. Jim took a seat beside Farrell as the hand was being dealt out.

“Heard a lot about you Kirk,” one of the men spoke up, a cigar in his left hand and cards in his right. His brown hair was slicked back perfectly without a single hair out of place. “Heard you are one hell of a shot.”

“Not quite, Viktor,” Vo replied, discarding two cards and drawing from the pile to replace them. “He’s obviously self taught. He didn’t hold his guns right.”

“Yeah, Sovik’s been on my ass about that.” Jim muttered, just thinking of his recent training sessions with the Vulcan. He knew he was good, but fighting opposite of him was damn right scary.

“Stop chatting and start betting,” Ferrell growled, throwing someone chips out onto the center of the table.

They played a couple rounds, Farrell losing the most money and, to everyone else’s satisfaction, Jim second. Despite the loss, Jim wasn’t too upset. He was gambling _._  With his _own_ money. He didn’t need to spend it on food or housing. He didn’t need to worry about the possibility of not having basic necessities in the near future. He had excess. Not much excess, but enough he was comfortable to gamble with it and not worry about losing. He didn’t eat or drink anything provided for him, distracting them from that with witty jokes and tales of opponents he had fought in the arena. He didn’t have to play up his battles. Most of them were brutal on their own. Especially his latest battles where the arena owners wanted him to lose.

Through his stories, he observed them, watching each guard’s reaction to them, at which parts their demeanor changed. Some held a new light in their eyes when they looked at him, respect for his ingenuity and his survival instincts. Farrell and Phelps were two of them. They were the ones that were beginning to trust him and valued his skills.

Others, like Vo, were skeptical. They doubted his stories and the skills Jim claimed he had. Those types could be useful too. Holding doubt meant they would analyze for faults, find loopholes. If you could gain their trust, they would less likely to betray you due to doubts about the enemy’s claim. They were realists.

Then there were the ones you had to keep your eye on. The one’s whose eyes lit up at the gory parts. The one who wanted blood. Those were the ones most likely to turn because it seems like fun or liked to be extra cruel for the fun of it.  There was only one of those. His name was Michael Travi. On the short side, with tight curly brown hair, and cream colored skin, he was built and filled out his uniform. His hands, particularly his knuckles, were extremely rough, something Jim noticed every time Travi placed down his cards.

“So, from what you’re saying,” Vo started, pausing only to think about what card to play. “That if you had been on the hunt, you would have caught Sovik?”

“Hn, if Captain Spock hadn’t forbid more security officers from beaming down after he took command, we would have caught him ourselves. Damn Vulcan would have tired out more then,” Farrell grumbled, losing yet another hand.

“I think the problem was underestimating Sovik,” Jim said, finally winning a round. “If I was hunting him, I would have put him in situation that would have forced him to use his phaser. First corner him so he had to use it, then take my time in approaching. The phasers had a low charge to begin with so he’d run out quickly. He’s not as good as Serik with hand to hand either. So if someone was quick enough to avoid being touched by him…”

“Even a Vulcan could be taken down by a human.” Vo finished. “But Sovik isn’t an idiot. He’d know what you’d be up to.”

“But he was also at a disadvantage. He didn’t know your numbers, and he didn’t know the terrain. If you used your subordinates correctly, plant him information about false numbers, combined with his physical exhaustion from forcing him to continue moving─” Jim leaned back in his chair.

“He’d make more mistakes,” Vo said with a hint of approval. “I’m impressed.”

“All speculation,” Phelps yawned. “It’s over and done with, and we can’t touch him now. Well, not in plain sight anyway.”

“True,” Jim agreed, losing his recent earnings to Travi. “By the way, out of curiosity, who are the top science officers around here? I know Spock used to be head of the science department, but he’s just now looking for someone to replace him. Do they all suck at their jobs or something?”

The question made both Viktor and Vo suspicious. Viktor more obvious than Vo. Vo had a good poker face, but his silence on the matter was a good enough tell.

Farrell, being as helpful as ever to Jim, answered. “Say what you want about Vulans, but they’re smart as hell. They can almost think as fast as the computer and seem to know just as much. From what I heard, no one is up to the captain’s standard, so no one’s replaced him ‘til now. If I have to guess, I’d say Marlena. She leads the chemistry department. She’s practically throwing herself at the captain for the position.”

Jim almost snorted at the thought of Spock sleeping with Marlena. Spock didn’t give the woman the time of day, not to mention how Jim took up Spock’s nights. “I doubt Spock would want Pike’s leftovers.”

“She’s everyone’s left overs. She’s slept with nearly everyone with rank to get where she is. Even I slept with her once. Wanted me to change her records or some shit while I was drunk,” Phelps took a swig of beer. “If he gave the position to anyone, it would probably be Janice Lester. Ambitious with just the right amount of crazy.”

“Never heard of her,” Jim said.

“You probably wouldn’t.” Farrell said folding his hand. “Lester is a weapon’s specialist. Spock wouldn’t deal much with her. She travel’s back and forth between engineering and the science department if there’s a chance that a new substance could be weaponized. I doubt the captain would choose her though since she’s specialized.”

“I see.”

“If you’re done informing the newbie about the ship, why don’t we actually bet something worth betting,” Travi growled, shoving in a large pile. “All or nothing.”

* * *

Sovik was… surprisingly brutal. Serik’s throws and punches hurt, but at least he was barehanded. Sovik, with a staff in his hand, stopped short of severe internal bleeding and broken bones. Spock briefly wondered if the human had done anything to the other Vulcan to warrant such a beating.

“My brother finds him to be worthy of advanced training,” Serik spoke up from behind Spock, joining him in watching the sparring from the observation deck.

“Or he is disciplining him for an action I am not aware of.” Spock amended, internally wincing when Jim took a particularly hard hit to the solar plexus.

Serik tilted his head just slightly. “He is the only human guard you have trusted to stay by your side alone. You value his abilities as a guard to a significant extent. He has also proved himself in many predicaments. He went on a mission with you and showed more than acceptable results. He has prevented several assassination attempts as well as stayed vigilant in his duties during your transition to the captain’s seat, and he has proved he can work with security efficiently and with little training. He is highly adaptable as well as a survivor. But he is human and fragile compared to other species who are aboard this ship and those we will encounter. And knowing how to fight properly with weapons could make a significant difference. Sovik is thinking of your future wellbeing to be training him so thoroughly.”

Jim took a hit to the side of the face with the staff. “I doubt Sovik’s intentions are as purely logical as you suggest,” Spock replied dryly. He would receive complaints from the doctor again, an increasing occurrence it seemed.

The intercom wailed, and Spock took his eyes off the sparring long enough to answer. “Captain Spock here.”

“Captain, you received a call from Starfleet. Ready room 3 is prepared for you.”

“I will receive it in room 2. Captain Spock out.”

“I do not believe these orders will be as simple as your last,” Serik commented, looking away from the training as well.

“Neither do I.”

Spock took one last look at Jim before leaving to receive the call.

He partially expected the call to be from Prince Leopold. He had not heard from him since the orders were delivered. Interesting enough, it wasn’t. Just a messenger boy that Spock did not recognize.

“Captain Spock. I’m here to deliver your new orders. It’s of the utmost importance to the empire.”

“All missions should be handled as so,” Spock replied.

The messenger did not seem to appreciate the comment.  “It’s a diplomatic mission with the kingdom of Bezniarm,” the messenger stumbled over the name. “It is considered a hostile planet, but the queen has finally opened up to discussions. She insisted that it must be the flag ship of the fleet or no deal.”

So it was possibly a trap, Spock thought.

“Please note Captain that failure will not be tolerated by the empire. We have been trying to secure their cooperation for nearly a decade. The briefing on the planet and the mission has already been sent to your terminal.”

“Understood.”

The messenger ended the call abruptly.

Spock downloaded the information to his PADD, noting that Mr. Kirk only had ten minutes left of practice. Spock returned to the observation deck to ensure that Sovik had not inflicted any more additional injuries that would warrant Dr. McCoy’s intervention.

There weren’t any more visible injuries. Much to Spock’s approval, but he couldn’t see much to begin with. Kirk had a habit off taking of his shirt when he worked out, but lately he hadn’t to hide the marks Spock left on his body. Perhaps he should approve of that. There was less probability that they would be discovered if no one could see the bite marks and fingerprints.

But Spock could still recall the body that had been underneath him with perfect clarity. Sinew body, perfectly proportioned, golden skin that glowed when covered with sweat under the low lights, scars that varied as much as its owner, strong hands that liked to grip and rip the sheets with their strength when he climaxed. Such a strong, flexible body that could pose a danger to him if he did not have him tied up, like a sehlat that seemed tamed but still had 6-inch fangs that could end his life.

The urge to tame reared its head for a brief moment, and Spock hurried to suppress the emotion. He had thought he would have worked out whatever it was he was feeling out of his system. Instead, it seemed to be becoming worse. He should stop while he could or limit himself. That would be the wise thing to do.

Kirk tiredly put down his staff and collapsed onto the mat, breathing heavily as Sovik backed away, ending the session. One more night would not compromise him any further.

* * *

It might have just been him. It probably was, but the past few days, Jim had noticed something. Spock was getting better at sex. He didn’t grab so hard, and he was getting gradually better at giving head. Now he knew it was inevitable since practice made perfect and all, but he never said what made him feel good and he figured Spock was just aggressive in bed in general. It wasn’t like the rules, verbal or non, had changed. They were still perfectly intact, and it wasn’t like Jim felt any change in emotion from Spock either. He sensed no change in affection or attitude towards him, he simply was better.

Of course, the lack of bruises and pain made the sex more enjoyable. It was still filled with lust and an unsatisfied sexual appetite so it was still rough and needy, he could just move better the morning after. That being said, the sex had always good, but now Jim was kind of looking forward to the nightly fucks that released him from the stress of a long day’s work.

So it may have been a slight disappointment when Spock called him to the captain’s quarters instead, especially with Sovik and Serik standing guard.

Spock had the chess board set up on the center table. He was seated with his elbows on the table and his fingers steepled in front of him. He was working on something and wished to work through the problem with a distraction.

Jim sat down across from him, allowing himself to sink into the plush chair. He only took a moment before moving the first piece.

Spock on the other hand took several minutes before making his first move. So it was to be a casual game. Spock was too distracted to put up a real fight on the chess board. Jim had won the last 4 games when Spock was heavily distracted. The Vulcan may not admit it, but he liked having someone just there while he thought.

“I managed to read through Drowning Whispers last night. It was a rather easy read from you,” Jim replied off handedly.

Spock met his gaze for a second, coming out of whatever trance he was in regarding his work. “I recall you complaining about reading War and Peace.”

Jim groaned at the thought of that monstrosity he had to read. “Don’t remind me. Worse thing you ever gave me.”

“What were your thoughts on the piece?” Spock asked, ignoring Jim’s complaining.

“I liked it. . . a lot actually. It’s hard not to since I was there. The author didn’t bullshit any details. I’m surprised the empire allowed it to be published.”

“Kodos allowed it. He believed it showed he was right.”

“He probably was,” Jim clicked his tongue. “I think the author was a daydreamer though. To think that the love that he spoke of existed, to think that someone would ever say the words ‘let me help’ and not have some alternative motive behind it. I’d like to go to Mars and punch some sense into him.”

“For once Mr. Kirk, I am inclined to agree with you.” Spock made another move.

Jim almost wanted to roll his eyes at the move. It was so logical that Spock wasn’t even trying to outthink him. “What are you working on this time?”

“You do not have the clearance for the details,” Spock stated blandly.

“Look, if you aren’t going to give me sex, conversation, or chess, I could leave. Bones has been dying to get me alone to drink with him.”

At that, Spock seemed to twitch, just enough that Jim noticed. “I forbade you from engaging in coitus with another individual while we have our arrangement. I do not wish to contract a disease.”

Jim snorted. “I’m not desperate enough to sleep with that old man. Besides, he’d probably only want vanilla sex anyway. Where’s the fun in that?”

“I do not understand why you humans would incorporate seasonings into your intercourse.”

“I’ll pretend you aren’t that ignorant and refrain from comment. Besides, I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about it?”

It was just a little teasing, but Jim swore he saw lust in Spock’s eyes before it vanished behind neutrality. “How do you feel about diplomatic missions, Mr. Kirk?”

“Don’t know. I’m not really one for talking, but if you need something from them that can’t be taken by force, I suppose it’s useful.”

Spock nodded then slid the PADD in front of him. “Read over this and memorize every minute detail. Ask for what you do not understand.”

“…wait what?” Jim asked dumbfounded.

“I want to bring as many guards as I can; however, I am only afforded two for these talks. I can bring a few other officers to fill certain positions, such as communications, or a second diplomat to take my place should I fail. At first glance, you do not appear as a guard majority of the time when you are in a group. You have a unique ability to observe as well as socialize, something Sovik and Serik are unable and unwilling to learn. In addition, you are less likely to ensure that I fail this mission, making you a convenient tool for this mission.”

Jim’s lips twisted in displeasure at the word tool, and the thought of being a diplomat didn’t do anything to make him want to do it either. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is there?” Jim moved a chess piece with more force than necessary.

“No.” Spock leaned back in his chair, responding to Jim’s move.

“At your current reading pace, it should take you 15.3 hours to go through plus an addition 3.54 to look up the many terms you are undoubtedly unfamiliar with. You have until the day after tomorrow at 0800 sharp to finish it. Due to the length, you have tomorrow off to complete my request. You will be tested on the material.”

The human’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You’re a turn off, you know that?” Grabbing the PADD, Jim stood to leave. “Don’t even think about coming by tonight.”

“I have said this repeatedly, and I am beginning to believe that your memory is not as good as you claim. You are not as irresistible as you believe, Mr. Kirk. Please do not flatter yourself as such.”

“Keep telling yourself that. See ya, _captain._ ” He gave a mock old fashioned salute and left to start on his homework.

* * *

 

It wasn’t hard to find Janice Lester. The labs were empty this time of night, and Scotty was rather particular in how many he allowed in the weapons lab. At this time of night, only one. That way, he could pinpoint whoever caused trouble in his domain if something were to fail. With a sandwich bribe, Scotty told him about Janice and even gave him permission to enter the lab.

Janice had her back turned to him, bent over a lab table wearing her science blues. There seemed to be some sort of engine on the table, Jim couldn’t really get a good look at it. All he could really see was her petite frame and reddish-brown hair messily pinned up. Well at least she seemed easy on the eyes. That would make things much easier.

“You know I heard that there was a science wiz here, I just didn’t think she’d be so hot.”

Janice turned around. Her brown eyes looking amused but skeptical. She leaned against the table, crossing her arms. “And why would you be looking for a science wiz exactly? Especially during the middle of the night.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, sauntering up to her “I thought there’d be a project you might be interested in, but now that I got a look at you, well maybe it might be too much for you.” 

“If you’re going to pull the ‘pretty girls can’t be smart’ angle or try to belittle me and pray on my insecurities to make me desperate to prove you wrong, you have another thing coming.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding,” he grinned. He leaned against the table, getting a better view of her work, but made sure to keep distance between them. “Having a big brain is hot, but I doubt you want some idiot like me trying to flirt with you constantly while you work.”

The woman’s eyes sparked with interest. “Keep going.”

“There was something I wanted your help with, but like I said, I find intelligence extremely hot,” he looked her up and down with a charming smile. “In fact, I should leave.”

“You should,” she agreed. “But I’m curious. What is it?”

“I found something interesting. It’s old and hard to understand, but I think it’s a weapon. I’d like to see if its more than a theoretic case.”

“And why should I help you exactly?” she asked, finally turning her body towards him and giving him her undivided attention.

Jim gave a partial shrug. “I heard how you applied for chief engineer a couple years ago, but lost the position to Lieutenant Commander Scott.”

“It should have been mine!” she snapped, glaring holes at him. “It’s because I’m a woman and wouldn’t spread my legs for that pig of a captain.”

“I fully agree. If this works, maybe Spock might reconsider. If not…well,” his smirk took on a feral edge. “We could always use it to get rid of the competition.”

She seemed to regard him in a new light, looking him over again and getting closer inch by inch. “What did you say your name was?”

“Jim.”

“Jim Kirk,” she finished, stopping when they were almost touching. “I’ve heard of you. You’re kind of hot, for a working slave that is.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I would take that as a compliment if you stopped sooner.”

“I’m sure.” She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. “Why don’t you show me these plans of yours?”

He gently took her bottom lip between his teeth before letting it go and taking a step back. With an exaggerated bow, Jim gestured to the door. “After you.”


	17. Tell me how you want it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're going to hate me half way through. I apologize in advance.

Jim rubbed the sleep from his eyes, resisting the urge to yawn as he reported to Spock’s quarters for his little quiz session. He had gotten little sleep the night before, too busy entertaining Janice with the new project. There may or may not have been a make out session involved. He couldn’t really remember. He had taken a calculated risk and drank (from his own private stash of course) to make himself seem less manipulative and put her at ease. It must have worked as she had laid out a rather complicated plan on what to do next with the project.   

Sovik and Serik nodded at him, already at their post. It seemed that they hadn’t retired last night as the blood stain on Sovik’s sash from yesterday’s training session was still present. Jim entered, taken back by the sudden heat only briefly. It was hot but not unbearably so. Spock must have recently turned down the heat.

Speaking of the Vulcan in question, Spock was sitting on his sofa staring at a chessboard with uncharacteristic concentration with elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steepled. Jim reached over Spock from behind and moved a knight, checking the king in a single move.

“You have greatly improved to be able to assess the situation with only a brief glance,” Spock stated, moving the knight to its previous position.

“Chess isn’t any different than the arena, just a lot more pieces and restrictions.” Jim leaned against the back of the sofa. “What are you working on this time?”

“I am contemplating a chess match I had with a particularly difficult opponent ten years ago.” Spock lifted a gloved hand and pointed to his desk. “You have a package with your name on it on my desk.”

Jim’s eyebrows shot up at the news and went to retrieve it. The brown packaging had already been opened, the tape no longer sealed shut after being opened once. He supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised Spock took a look for himself. Carefully, he removed the packaging until a leather-bound book was in his hands.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” Spock said, still concentrating on the board. “Is there a reason why Serik is buying you such a rare and expensive gift?”

“Hm, I wonder.” Jim said, running his fingers over the worn cover. “Maybe he found interest in this unappealing human too.”

Spock’s eyes darted over to his form, shooting him a Vulcan glare. “Whatever it is you are currently planning, cease it. Serik will not be persuaded by human charm, and you made a deal that I was to be the only partner you engage in intercourse with.”

“First of all, stop calling it intercourse. It’s sex. S. E. X. Or fucking. It doesn’t make you sound smarter saying it the other way. Second, what do you even care why he’s giving me things? Jealous?”

“Vulcans do not get jealous.” Jim rolled his eyes at the predictable reply. “Additionally, I have every right to know what you are up to. I am your master.”

Jim sat on his desk with a small smirk. “If you must know, Serik owed me one, and this is my payment. If you’re curious, ask him.”

“I intend to.” Spock didn’t reprimand him for sitting on his desk, but he turned his attention back to the board.

Frowning, Jim piped up again. “Didn’t you call me here to quiz me?”

Spock dismantled the chess board, putting each piece away in its appropriate place in its case. “What Regalian delicacy is used as a peace offering amongst diplomats?”

“Tog liver, filleted on an open fire. Refusing the offering can not only start a war, it can also be considered sacrilege as they believe that it will incur a god’s wrath if refused, giving the right to execute the accused on the spot.”

“How do Regalian’s propose?”

“Trick question, they don’t. They don’t have marriages. The females choose their partners after earning their place in battle and earn their right to mate. Males only take a female’s place on the battlefield when their partner is pregnant. Otherwise, once the kid is born, they go their separate ways.”

“What is the history between the Regalians and the empire?”

They continued this question and answer session for 20 minutes. Thankfully, it was rather a broad overview which Jim was thankful for. There were parts he had only skimmed through while he was drunk. Still, he was sprawled out on the couch across from Spock, watching him work even after the quiz was over.

“Ask the doctor if you are still suffering from the aftermath of your intoxication.”

Lazily, Jim turned on the couch so he could see Spock better. “How’d you know?”

“You smell of alcohol. Doctor McCoy’s influence I assume.”

Jim grew slightly more alert at that. He hadn’t drunk that much last night, so he wasn’t really hungover if just a bit sluggish. Just how good was Spock’s sense of smell?

“I picked up a bottle when we were at the star base.” Swinging his legs over the edge, Jim sat up. “What time do I need to report tonight?”

Spock stood up himself, walking over to his closet and pulling out a medium sized box. “1930.” He then turned and handed the box to Jim. “Your evening wear for the event.”

Cracking open the box, Jim caught a glance at its contents, scrunching his nose in displeasure. “Wonderful,” he said with fake enthusiasm. “I take it I can leave now?”

“Affirmative.”

Carrying the box under one arm and his book in his hand, Jim left Spock’s quarters.

* * *

 

Spock entered the transporter room 10 minutes before the departure time. Wearing the captain’s dress uniform, a grey uniform with gold clad shoulders. Spock tugged down on the hem, taking out any possible wrinkles. Serik and Sovik were right behind him, both with a dagger and phaser on their waist. All three stepped up onto the transporter pad, waiting for the last of their party to arrive.

Jim arrived with a minute to spare. He didn’t wear the standard Starfleet uniform as he wasn’t officially a Starfleet officer. His was a bit more extravagant. He wore a gold, long-sleeve, dress jacket with a high collar, complimented with black slacks. The gold brought out the color of his hair, making it seem brighter.

“This is worse than any torture device you could ever stick me in,” Jim complained, pulling at the collar.

“You almost look civilized,” Spock commented. The response gave Spock an opportunity to witness an interesting reaction. The human he had addressed was looking at him with a surprised look on his face that he hastily covered up.

“I think those long nights are getting to you. That almost sounded like a compliment,” Jim smirked, getting onto the platform as well.

Spock was unsure if that was supposed to be an innuendo or not given the frequency of their couplings the past two weeks. Sovik and Serik did not seem to mind the question or Kirk’s behavior. They had grown accustomed to Kirk’s otherwise odd comments and behavior over the past couple months. “I was merely stating that your true nature will less likely be discovered with such a convincing disguise.”

Kirk merely shrugged, not really offended. Spock gave the ensign behind the transporter controls the go ahead.

An entourage was waiting for them. At first glance, the Regalians seemed like normal humans, but on closer inspection, their smooth, milky white skin was actually comprised of small scales. Each member had thick, long black hair of various lengths, that covered their lack of outer ears, and their eyes were of varying degrees of yellow and green. Spock also noticed that each member who had come to retrieve them were female, not unexpected given that the society was a matriarchy, and the female of the species were slightly larger than their male counterparts.

Each woman wore a white toga with slits on the sides that reached to their hips, revealing their weapons of choice. Many had daggers strapped to their thigh or phasers. Meeting them in person, Spock could not help but compare them to Earth’s amazon warriors he had read about.

“Welcome Captain Spock, your presence honors us.” A smaller figure emerged from the group of females. A male who wore gold bracelets that started at the wrists and stopped halfway up the forearm and nothing but a blue skirt, the color of royalty on the planet.

“And you are?” He asked, stepping down from the transporter.

“I am the queen’s chosen mate for this year. She has sent me to escort you to the dining hall for the banquet as her representative.” The young man kept his eyes averted from Spock’s keeping his head down. “She apologizes for the inconvenience.”

Spock offered no reply, knowing that talking to a male here would imply he believed to be of the same social status as him. As they walked down the covered walkways, open to the outside greenery and the humidity of the planet, he noticed every male stop what they were doing to bow, not a single one looking up in curiosity at their foreign guests. He sensed no discontent from the male population, just subservient behavior. Was it a social development or a biological one?

They were lead to a large circular pavilion with a large domed roof and large vine like pillars to keep it up. At the center of the pavilion was a large circular wooden table that was the color of sand. The table was rather low, as were the padded benches around it. There was one chair at the table different from the rest. It was a simple design, but it was the only one that had a back and wasn’t bench.

The representative, who did not offer his name, gestured to Spock and Kirk’s seat near strange chair which was most likely the head of the table. Spock took the seat closest to the chair while Jim sat next to him, leaving a small bit of space between them. Sovik and Serik on the other hand, took position by the male servants who sat off to the side on the edge of the pavilion, but near the female warriors as well, keeping their distance as to not offend the Regalians but stayed close enough to keep an eye on Spock and react.  

The female warriors took their seat as well, leaving only the male representative to stand at the table next to the head seat.

The wait for the queen was short. Within 8.13 minutes, the queen entered with her attendants by her side. Instead of a traditional crown, her right arm was covered in intricate tattoos, made up of the planet’s native language, telling the stories of battles won. As the tattoos only covered one arm, she was a relatively young leader.

Neither Kirk nor Spock had to stand in her presence, unlike the others. It was one of the concessions the planet’s people were making to put an effort out in accepting a species that was once, and still partly is, a patriarch. Still, the queen could not quite hide her distaste at the sight of them, the corner of her lips turning down just slightly in a sneer. “You are bigger than I had suspected,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“In our species, the males tend to be slightly larger than the females,” Spock answered.  

The queen tossed her braided hair over her shoulder. “Is that so? Strange.”

She removed her sword from her hip and tossed it onto the table with a loud clang, a sign of peace to the Regalians, but could mean challenge to anyone else. He felt Kirk tense at his side at the sight of the weapon. He had been unusually quiet since arriving, his hand twitching more than once towards the hidden phaser on his body.

She took her place at the head of the table with her mate taking a seat on the floor beside her. Absentmindedly, she stroked his head and a soft sound, a mixture between a snake’s hiss and a cat’s purr escaped him, his eyes closing with content. “I have read a bit about the Terran Empire. The expanse of their territory is quite impressive.”

“I too find the history of the Terran Empire quite fascinating. The probability of an inferior technological race managing to gain power and influence as fast of it did was statistically improbable.”

“I suppose it was.” One of the male servants came to pour the wine, first serving the queen then Spock. “But it was just proof that strategy and tenaciousness can overcome any opposition.”

“Indeed it was,” Spock conceded.

The agreement coerced a smile from the queen’s lips, showing her sharpened canines. “I admit. I’ve never seen something like you before. Does everyone on your planet have excess skin on the sides of their heads?”

“It is the outer ear. It aids in funneling sound waves to the inner ear and improves the hearing.”

He wasn’t sure what he said, but she seemed amused by his response. “Is that so? Very interesting. And the skin? There are no─ what do you call them? Scales?”

“No both the Human and Vulcan species lack scales.”

“Fascinating. So fragile,” she did the same hiss/purr sound her mate had made.

“Your highness, if I may, I’d like to talk to you about why you have made the decision to contact the empire now after many previous attempts made by the Empire?” He did not like the way she looked at him, but being how they were outnumbered and failure wasn’t an option, he tried to steer the conversation back on track.

“You have access to a particular technology that we are interested in. One that helps neutralize radioactivity and radiation. Given that you have shown interest in our dilithium crystals on numerous occasions, we thought it would be the beneficial for both parties to come to an agreement.” She leaned forward extending a finger to touch his skin. “It can rip so easily.”

“You will find that Vulcans are not as fragile as we appear. If you wish, I can arrange for a sparring match between one of your guards and my own.”

She laughed, but retracted her hand. “Not one of my warriors. One of our men perhaps. We wouldn’t want to risk hampering relations because one of my women scratched you.”

“That does seem preferable,” Spock agreed. “Shall we discuss more about possible trade agreements?”

The queen went along with it, and after half an hour of discussion, the other warriors had decided to join the conversation and even hesitantly started talking to Kirk as well. Kirk was a natural at putting them at ease, coaxing a smile or two from the cautious warriors. During the discussions, however, the queen was getting noticeably closer.

“You are quite intelligent, Captain. As a war-based society, we often do not converse in such topics. We leave these things to our weaker or sickly women so that they may continue to serve our kingdom. Have you ever been sick, Captain?”

The queen, Spock noticed, seemed fascinated by his health, both mental and physical. The society seemed to pay little mind to their male population, so the only logical reason was that she had never met a male who could have both physical and intellectual attributes. “I have maintained optimal health since I was four years of age. On my planet, we pursue knowledge as well as become disciplined in martial arts the moment we are able.”

“Fascinating.” Sliding out of her chair, she sat herself down at the edge of Spock’s bench practically pressed against him. “I’ve never met a creature like you before.” She traced the outside of his ear with her black nail. “I’d like to know more. In private.”

It took restraint not pull away from her touch, though the urge to do so was strong. “I do not believe it would be wise.”

“Are you sure? I hear that our poison can be _quite_ potent, and very enjoyable. Aren’t you curious?” Her hand trailed down his chin, to his chest. “I am. You seem like you hide a warrior’s passion behind such a controlled façade.”

Spock glanced over at Kirk who was watching them intensely from the corner of his eye.  “I assure you, I am always in control.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” she purred, sliding a hand under his shirt.

The feel of her hands was uncomfortable on his skin. She was being too forward, and he could not think of a logical reason to decline.  Having coitus with her was within acceptable boundaries as far as the empire was concerned if it yielded benefits for the empire, which in this case, fell under that prerogative.

Her lips grazed his neck, taking a nip at his skin. “If you like, I could even take you as my second mate if you really enjoy it,” she whispered seductively into his ear.

Glancing back at Kirk, Spock saw the lust and amusement in his eyes. The human was watching every move the queen was making while keeping up his side of the conversation, but it wasn’t as smooth as before, distracted by the scene.

He thought he had been discreet stealing glances at his human partner, but it did not go unnoticed. “Do you like being watched? I can have him join us if it excites you.” Taking his eyes off Kirk, he looked into hers. “Or if you prefer, I could offer you my mate. I don’t mind watching.”

Leaning forward, Spock whispered into her ear, knowing what it would look like from Kirk’s point of view. “Threesomes hold little interest to me, but your offer has been noted.”

The queen’s eyes darted to the side. “It seems your aid has other plans anyhow.” Spock followed her gaze, landing on a female warrior in Kirk’s lap who had not been there a second ago. “He seems to have charmed my women.”

Narrowing his eyes just slight, he watched as Kirk flirted with the woman in his lap, mildly noticing he was clenching his fist at the sight. The woman in Kirk’s lap extended a nail, drawing a thin line of blood. That was convenient, it gave Spock the excuse he needed.

“It seems drugging my aid is also a part of your agenda,” Spock stated, pulling out his communicator.

“I don’t see him complaining,” she tried to take his communicator, but he was quicker, holding it out of her reach.

“He will be leaving, and I will consider this an aggressive action taken against the empire.”

The queen leaned back, licking her lips with a long slender tongue. “You know, Captain, as good as your poker face is, it is impossible to hide all tells.” She looked at Kirk with a hungry gaze. “I have read that humans were not truly monogamous, so I thought nothing about the smell on you.  If he was off limits, you should have said.”

She waved her mate over who went to her without question. “I believe you have had enough of the banquet. Shall we formally talk more about this agreement?” As she finished her sentence, Kirk fell over at the table unconscious. “You’ll be quite busy tomorrow.”

“It appears that will be the case.” He opened his communicator, sending instructions to the ship to pick up Kirk. The queen was waiting for him. Her interest was still clear, but she no longer came across as predatory. It seemed this mission would be completed with little difficulty as well. While preferable, it was statistically unlikely he would have several missions consecutively without incident. “In which room did you wish to negotiate in?”

* * *

 

Jim was disoriented when he came to. The room was spinning, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. It took several minutes to realize he was in Spock’s room. He had never been past the frosted glass separator that parted the bedroom and the living quarters, but the Vulcan décor and a glimpse of the Vulcan lyre in the living room eventually hinted at the truth.

The second thing he noticed was that he was naked and chained. His wrists were bound by thick metal manacles, linked together by a thin metal bar. The bar was attached to a metal hook imbedded in the floor behind his back. His legs were also shackled and chained to the same metal hook, forcing him to sit on his heels.  There was also thick, leather collar around his neck and a chain attached to a wall somewhere behind him. His restraints kept him from leaning forward at all or change his position.

He tried to remember what led to this predicament. He remembered one of the Regalians on his lap flirting with him. He hadn’t seen a weapon or anything suspicious on her at the time either, yet he felt groggy like he had been drugged.

“You are finally awake.” Jim’s head jerked to the side to see Spock come out of the fresher, dressed in black button up jacket and loose matching slacks. They looked as if they were designed for comfort rather than formal ware, even the jacket was slightly loose on his frame and looked soft to the touch.

“What did you do to me?” He growled, pulling at his restraints with a sharp tug.

Spock merely lifted an eyebrow. “You imply that I am the reason you are in this current predicament.”

“Aren’t you?” Jim glared.

“You find yourself in this situation, Mr. Kirk, because you failed to thoroughly read the material I had provided for you. On the contrary, it is because of my actions that you were transported directly to my quarters rather than go through the humiliation of being seen by the crew in your current condition.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Like this wasn’t humiliating, being tied up like some sex slave? The anger was nearly overwhelming. His nails were digging into his palms drawing blood, trying to rain in his restraint to kill the bastard in front of him.

“Just like the Elasian females of Elaan, whose tears are chemical compounds that entrance males by synthesizing the feelings of love and devotion in the males who make contact with them, Regalian females produce a chemical component that, when entered into the blood stream, overrides the pituitary gland into releasing gonadal steroids.”

“I don’t need the lecture, bastard. Just tell me what they did.”

Spock quirked his eyebrow again, this time with obvious condescension. “In colloquial vernacular, you have been spiked with a very powerful aphrodisiac.”

It took a moment for the sentence to sink in, and he almost laughed at his predicament. “And that gives you the right to tie me up, you perverted bastard?”

“Think of it as punishment, Mr. Kirk, for being careless. You are restrained for two main reasons. The first is to keep you from leaving while I complete the rest of my duties.  In this state, you will be easy to take advantage of should you leave the sanctity of my quarters. Second is to keep you from touching yourself. It will only further aggravate your condition.”

It wasn’t that bad, Jim thought dismissively. He felt a bit horny, but he had been through worse and currently his anger was winning out over his slowly growing arousal that he original missed. “And why can’t you just help me work it out of my system exactly,” Jim asked through clenched teeth.

“Because I do not want to.” Spock picked up a pile of PADDs off his desk. “Of course, if you wish to have someone help relieve you, I will summon them, but keep in mind that it will also terminate our current arrangement. Either option is of no consequence to me.”

Because Spock knew he had no one else to sleep with, Jim thought vehemently. He wanted to bite those pointy ears off the Vulcan’s head. Still, it seemed he had been out for a bit already. The worst had probably passed while he was unconscious. Even if it did get a little worse, he would deal. He wouldn’t let Spock see him break. “So what? You going to sit there and watch me suffer all night?”

“As stated before, I have some work that has yet to be completed. I will return in approximately an hour and thirty-seven minutes to check on your status.” Spock walked to the entrance of his room, leaving Jim’s view. “Until then, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim heard the door whoosh closed, and he could only think good riddance. He’d try to go back to sleep, think of the new book he had just gotten, anything to keep his mind off whatever was coursing through his body.

If it had been anyone other than Spock, Jim wouldn’t have believed the reasons Spock had given him, but as long as he had known the Vulcan, he had never outright lied, just exaggerated or undermined the truth. Neither option seemed appropriate given that Spock had said himself that he didn’t wish to help Kirk with his problem; therefore, there was no reason for Spock to tie him up like this except for the reasons he had stated.

Spock had at least turned the temperature down to human levels, so he was at least comfortable in that regard. For a little while at least.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the room was gradually getting hotter, and the air felt thicker. Was this some type of torture? Why would Spock do that? Did Spock like seeing him sweat or something? Actually, he had never seen Spock sweat before. Spock’s body always felt cool on top of him in comparison to his. Was it even possible to make Spock hot and bothered? To make Spock cry out in pleasure and lose himself?

Now that he thought about it. He had never even seen Spock’s cock either. Spock always took care of everything. He bet his cock tasted amazing, hot and heavy on his tongue. Jim’s mouth watered. He would take it all in his mouth and drink every drop of─

Jim shook his head violently, ridding the image from his head. What the hell? Didn’t he just say he would beat this thing? He just needed to get his mind back on track. He just needed to slow his breathing and get it under control, think of the books he had yet to read. The same books that were caressed by Spock’s slender fingers. Spock always handled them so gently despite the strength Jim knew they had. Spock had the power to break him in an instant. The thought of such power sent a shiver up his spine so strong a soft whine escaped him before he could stop it.

His member was hard and leaking, demanding immediate attention. Trying to think of other subjects wasn’t working. Everything lead back to Spock. The discomfort had him squirming, but his movements were limited. He couldn’t flip onto his front nor could he bend forward enough to put any pressure on his cock. All the moving around just seemed to make it worse. Every brush on his skin felt like a caress. Every heavy sigh seemed to make his nipples even harder.

He brought his mind together long enough to make out the clock on the other side of the room. It had only been forty minutes. Not even half the time Spock had said. On the bright side, it would have to start fading soon…right?

* * *

 

Spock was a minute and two seconds past the estimated time he had predicted. Him and Serik had discussed in further details the changes Ensign Checkov had made to the computer’s firewall as well as engaged in a short, joint meditation session.  He didn’t get much out of session. Spock could not quit get rid of his thoughts of the human awaiting in his room and enter a full meditative state. Chances were, Serik did not notice either, having lost the use of his hands and unable to lead their sessions anymore. Saying his partings, he left with half the stack of PADDs he had arrived with.

He entered his room, going straight to his desk to put away the PADDs. He could hear the labored breathing in the background and the restless shifting. Sitting behind his desk, he pressed a button that retracted the frosted glass divider into the wall, giving him a clear view of his human.

Kirk had his eyes closed, his lips parted, trying to control his breathing. His body was bent as far forward as he could go, and his knees rubbed together in attempt to try to put pressure on his member and failing. His skin was flushed red, and his hair was matted down with sweat.

Tempting was the word Spock would have used to describe how Kirk looked, and Spock felt a spike of arousal surge through his body. It was difficult to ignore, but Kirk needed to learn from his mistake. He shouldn’t allow anyone to touch him.

Forcing his eyes away, Spock pulled out some reports to go over for tomorrow’s work day. It wasn’t time to indulge, not yet.

Exactly eleven point two three minutes later. Kirk spoke up in a shaky voice, “Really, Spock? You’re going to leave me like this?”

“The effects should naturally run its course in another three to four hours,” he didn’t even need to look up.

“I pissed you off right? This is punishment for something,” his voice cracked, and Kirk didn’t even try to cover it up.

The image of the Regalian woman entered the Vulcan’s mind. “Possibly.”

“I’m sorry alright, so let’s just fuck already,” though a suggestion it sounded more like a plea to Spock’s ears.

“No.”

The human fell silent once again, allowing Spock to continue his work.  Four point seven minutes later, a soft whine came from Kirk. “Please Spock. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going crazy. Let me cum. I’ll do anything. Just touch me,” his delivery was breathy and desperate, and his hips were rocking with anticipation.

Spock met his eyes. Kirk’s face was full of want, his eyes glazed over with lust and need. Any trace of the blonde’s arrogant, smug behavior was long gone. “No.”

“Come on Spock, please.” Spock looked back down, intending not to look up again, when he heard Kirk say something completely unexpected. “Master.” Spock’s hand twitched.

Kirk must have noticed too. “Please, Master. Give it to me.”

Putting the PADD aside, Spock pushed a button on the control panel integrated on his desk. The wall and floor metal screw eyes unhooked as well as the shackles on Jim’s ankles, freeing the human from his position on the floor, but leaving his arms bound and collar and chain intact. “If you can prove how much you desire this, I will consider relieving you.”

Kirk got to his feet, his legs shaking from falling asleep in the uncomfortable position. He tried to move in haste, stumbling as the blood flow had yet to return to his extremities. Spock had to acknowledge the human’s determination as he didn’t allow his lack of coordination to stop him. He fell to his knees in front of Spock, and looked up at him beseeching, searching for any clue of what Spock wanted from him.

 The expression on the human’s face intrigued him. The look of loss of what he could do with his hands still bound. How many more expression could this human make? Slowly and deliberately, Spock freed his half-aroused member from the confines of his pants.

Spock could almost swear he saw the human’s mouth water. With no hesitation, Kirk leaned forward taking Spock’s member into his mouth moaning at the contact his hard nipples made against Spock’s legs. The temporary wave of pleasure stripped away whatever dignity the human still held, letting Spock’s member free to instead increase the contact, pressing his weeping member against Spock’s leg, rocking his hips violently in desperation.

He didn’t get far. Spock grabbed the chain still around his neck and cutting off the human’s air and yanking him away. A strangled whine escaped him.

“Rewards must be earned, Mr. Kirk.” Spock said, ensuring that Kirk was looking at him and not his cock. “If you wish to find release from me, you will service me until I am satisfied with your performance.”

Kirk managed a nod through his lust filled mind. Spock kept the chain in his hand but adjusted his grip so that rather than holding the chain near the nape of Kirk’s neck he held it at the end, giving Kirk slack on his new leash. Spock had predicted that his warning would not fully process. After all, the human was consumed with nothing but sexual instinct, but apparently, his threat had worked. Kirk leaned forward, nuzzling Spock’s member with almost affection before taking it back into his mouth.

He started at a moderate pace, taking his time, swirling his tongue around his cock moaning softly. Spock closed his eyes, trying to keep Kirk’s lust from overtaking him through the touch, putting up additional shields around his mind. Kirk used too much teeth, making the contact occasionally uncomfortable, but he sensed that it was by accident in his barely restrained excitement.

The pace increased little by little as Kirk gradually lost himself to his own desires. He seemed to get more enthusiastic as Spock’s length grew. He let it go just to lick the tip and swallow the head again to suck on it. Once Spock had grown to full length, Jim let him go, finding a new interest and taking the sack into his mouth instead.

Kirk was making obscene sounds during it all, licking and slurping loudly. No Vulcan would ever do such a thing, intentionally or not. But no Vulcan would ever touch him like this either.

Getting caught up in his excitement, Kirk took in too much at one time, choking and pulling back in response. Spock decided to stop him right there. Kirk was about to try again when Spock said, “Stay,” in a commanding tone.

The human obeyed, stopping with visible effort. His body shook with anticipation, waiting for the next command, eyes glued on his member. A trail of saliva still connected them. Spock reached out running his thumb over Jim’s swollen lips, wiping the saliva away. His face was flushed with fever and his lips parted automatically at his touch, panting.

When he withdrew his hand, Jim started to follow before remember the command and stopping himself. This obedient Kirk was enticing. So eager to please him even with temptation so close.

Spock took his member in his hand. With a few strokes, he ejaculated, dirtying Kirk’s face and his gloves in the process.

Unconsciously, Kirk closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider, catching some in his mouth. Slowly, he reopened them to half mass, spotting Spock’s dirtied glove extended towards him. Taking the hint, he extended his tongue, catching some of the cum about to fall.  He then took to cleaning the leather of every drop like he couldn’t get enough.

The pressure was arguably more pleasurable than the blow job he just received. It made him want to remove his gloves so that he could feel Jim better, could feel the heat and the wetness of a human mouth. Spock’s breathing grew slightly labored but still within his control, but his main objective of having Kirk clean his fingers succeeded in arousing him again.

Once clean, Kirk looked up at him. “Command me,” he panted. “Please.”

Perhaps the poison did more than arouse. Kirk’s behavior reminded him of the queen’s mate, seemingly eager to please and do as she said, relishing in the tiniest bit of contact or attention. It would explain the male Regalians’ behavior on the planet. “Fascinating,” he murmured.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><(The following will be posted for two days (6/2) until I take it down due to embarrassment.)

Kirk’s cock was leaking almost consistently now, and the human himself seemed at his limit. Giving mercy, he ordered, “Bend over.”

Ready to comply, Kirk turned around and put his rear end in the air. He had limited range with his arms still tied behind his back, but he spread his legs and used his hands to expose his entrance as best he could. “Master,” he pleaded, his forehead to the floor, “I need your cock. Fuck my asshole hard. Make me your slut.”

Even needy, Kirk’s vocabulary was vulgar. Still, he had never heard Kirk speak so much during their couplings and previously he would have never referred to himself in such a way. Spock got out of his chair to kneel between Kirk’s spread legs. He had barely inserted the first finger when Kirk’s body arched, ejaculating a little. 

The human was losing himself again, clenching around Spock’s finger and rocking his hips a little. “Do not release,” Spock ordered, knowing the impossibility of the command.

Kirk whined, but still attempted to gain control of himself, steeling his hips in place. Spock raised an eyebrow at the attempt and was slightly impressed that Kirk managed to keep the command when Spock pushed in a second finger. Kirk clenched down on his fingers, making Spock’s breathing hitch for a moment. Having a fairly accurate idea of Kirk’s body from their previous couplings, he easily retaliated by brushing against his prostate.

The human came with such force, his body shook violently as he cried out lewdly and unabashedly. He rode out his orgasm, but Kirk’s erection barely flagged at all. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to─”

Spock yanked on the chain, forcing him to raise his chest off the ground and uncomfortably hover parallel to the ground. Simultaneously, Spock entered him in a hard, swift movement. The pain didn’t even phase the blonde man, his cock twitch with excitement. Spock leaned over whisper into his ear, “I believe you said I should ‘fuck you like a slut’ if I may borrow your rather colorful language.”

“Yes. Yes, make me your sex slave.”

Spock, gave a sharp thrust, hitting his prostate yet again and getting a strangled cry of pleasure. Spock used his free hand to keep Kirk upright while simultaneously rubbing the pebbled nipple between his fingers. Kirk writhed unable to control his body, torn between trying to get away from the onslaught against his overstimulated prostate and pushing back against his thrusts.

Spock sucked on the back of Jim’s neck, his tongue following a scar just below the nape. Jim’s muscles tightened, signaling he was about to climax a second time, when Spock removed the cuffs from his wrists. Kirk’s arms immediately reached back to wrap around Spock’s neck to press their bodies closer together.

The second climax was much weaker than the first and Kirk tiredly released Spock, using his hands to keep himself from falling face into the floor. His erection had flagged considerably too, the drug nearly worked out of his system.

Spock pulled out and a small disappointed sound escaped Jim’s lips. “Still not satisfied Mr. Kirk?” he asked, sitting back on his heels.

Kirk reached back probing his ass and widening his twitching hole with his fingers. “You didn’t cum,” he whispered, sounding dejected. 

It was at that moment that Spock realized he had made an error and why he had been so caught up with Jim’s lust. He had forgotten to put on a condom. But it did feel so much pleasurable without it, and he knew Kirk was clean. Logically, there was no reason to correct the situation now or in the future. 

Crawling over to Spock, he got onto his lap, his cum covered body soiling Spock’s clothes. “I feel so empty,” he said seductively, lowering himself onto Spock. “Give me your cum, Master.” He went at slow pace, paying more attention to Spock’s needs than his own for the moment. He rolled his hips, brought himself up until Spock was barely inside him, then came back down before repeating the action. 

Spock kept his hands on Kirk’s hips to keep him steady as the human worked on him. Jim’s hands worked to open Spock’s robes, his hands touching him for the first time. Jim’s hands barely touched Spock’s nipples before they were pulled away and forced into taking his own member into his hands with Spock guiding him. 

“My last command,” Spock said, making Kirk fist himself. “Is to climax when I tell you to.”

“Yes, Master.”

Spock kept the slow pace, monitoring Kirk’s condition. Kirk’s recovery was much slower and his movements sluggish, but humored the human and allowed him to finish what he started. It made it simple to match their releases that way as well. 

Even with the last bit of remnants of the drug leg, Kirk was hard and ready to climax one last time with little stimulation. Thankfully, Spock had been close to the edge already. He met Kirk’s gaze who was watching his lips, waiting for Spock to give him the word.

“Climax.”

Spock watched Jim’s face even as they both climaxed. He looked like he was in bliss, eyes squeezed closed as the last of the fever left his body. His final release barely produced any cum, having been nearly squeezed dry the previous two times. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The moment his high passed, Kirk slumped forward, his body going limp in Spock’s arms.

Gently, Spock picked up his slave and carried him to the bed, mildly annoyed that he would have to change the sheets. Leaving to get a wet towel, he returned with a spare set of clothes, a blanket and a jar filled with a lilac colored liquid as well. He placed the items on the night stand for now.

First, Spock cleaned Kirk’s face, carefully cleaning the dried ejaculation from his skin and hair then made his way down his body, wiping it away from his chest and stomach. He could feel the blue eyes loosely following his movements, barely keeping consciousness. He turned Jim onto his stomach to clean his backside as well. Dipping the cloth into his asshole to clean to the best of his abilities while checking for damage. Finding no blood, Spock assumed that there probably wasn’t any significant damage and therefore didn’t need to incorporate Doctor McCoy’s assistance.

Next, he removed the collar and chain from Kirk’s neck, noting the irritated and swelling skin around the neck and wrists. Spock retrieved another rag and the jar from the pile of clothes. He opened the jar and a soft, floral yet bitter scent wafted to his nose. He dipped a small portion of the rag in the jar, letting the ointment seep into cloth.  Replacing the lid and setting it aside, he dabbed the rag around the affect areas.

Finished, he discarded the soiled rags onto the floor. He took Jim’s wrist into his hands, massaging the muscles up the arm to the shoulder then continued with the other arm to improve the blood circulation after being restrained for so long and minimize and possible damage the rough treatment may have caused. He did the same to the legs, spending extra time on the quads and calves.

A soft sigh of content left the human as he started to drift off. His body was still hot to the touch. Perhaps Spock had pushed too hard or the drug had been stronger than he had anticipated.  It was even possible that Kirk would think it had all been a dream. He would have a high fever on and off for the next 12 hours as an aftereffect of the severe hormone imbalanced he had suffered. Knowing the human, Kirk would rather it be a dream. There was no doubt in Spock’s mind that Kirk would be pissed at his own submissive behavior. Specifically, at the words he had said.

Picking up the dead weight, Spock moved him so he could remove the top sheet. He tossed the sheet aside with one hand and placed Kirk back down. By the time he was finished, Kirk was passed out completely.

Spock dressed Kirk in a new pair of black regulation briefs and a loose white t-shirt before taking a quick sonic shower, reflecting on his uncharacteristic behavior. He had made several mistakes. He originally had no intention of sleeping with Kirk while he was being punished. He had forgotten to put on a condom. He had allowed Kirk to briefly touch him and give him head. He had gotten swept away with the power he had over Kirk while he was vulnerable. All this should have made him more concerned than he actually felt.

Kirk was his slave. Theoretically, there was no problem with what he had just done. Humans forced their slaves to sleep with them all the time. But he wasn’t human. He was Vulcan. They did not do this. Any of this. He had made a commitment to the Vulcan way, another thing he had temporarily forgotten tonight. But there was something about seeing that prideful man temporarily under his every command that overrode his controls.

He stepped out of the shower and completed the rest of his nightly routine.

A begging, obedient Kirk eager to please. It almost made him want to see it again.

Spock placed a glass of water on the night stand and draped the blanket over Kirk’s form. He disposed of the soiled linens down the laundry shoot and finally, Spock kneeled on his meditation mat for a much needed session.

A constantly vulnerable and defenseless Kirk wouldn’t be the same. He would be just another one of a million sex slaves that he could have purchased at a brothel.

Slipping into the first stage of meditation, he realized he was allowing Kirk to stay in his bed. Well, he would be of no threat for now. He could stay until he was able to move on his own tomorrow. With that, Spock wiped the rest of his thoughts from his mind and fell deeper into his meditation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I actually wrote the entire scene, but after reading it, I felt that you guys deserve better quality. I am looking for someone who is good at writing Sub/Dom scenes and can improve what I have written. I said before that I suck at writing sex and as the sex is kind of showing how their relationship is growing, I need it written well. If anyone is interested, please let me know. A lot of people will be grateful for it.
> 
> As for the pictures, it is for those whose never watched Mirror Mirror. It is the original Kirk, Spock and Uhura and the uniforms they wear in this universe. Mirror Spock had a beard. I encourage you to watch the episode if you guys haven't.


	18. The Devil in the Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! I skipped classes to write this chapter so let me know what you think. I am aware I have messed up priorities.

He felt like he was on fire, burning alive from the inside out. The inside of his mouth felt like sand and his throat felt like sandpaper. But there were short times when he felt like he was in an oasis. Maybe it was the fever making him delirious or maybe it was just a dream, but he swore when he opened his eyes, he saw Spock giving him water or tending to his fever. But that couldn’t have been Spock. The Vulcan would never do something like that for him.

Jim rolled over, rubbing his face into the soft fabric of the sheets. Slowly, he opened her eyes. He didn’t have sheets like this.  His body felt heavy and sore, but he forced himself to sit up. It was Spock’s room.

The memories of what had transpired hit him like a ton of bricks. His cheeks lit up with embarrassment and shame and the urge to just burry himself under the covers almost won over. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  How could he have been so stupid? No, how could he have been so weak willed that he begged for it like some needy whore? Everything that he had worked for was ruined. There was no way this wouldn’t be used against him. All the effort in making Spock think he was a worthy opponent, that he wasn’t a push over or that he would never be a personal toy, shattered in an instant because he couldn’t handle being a little horny.

His fists clenched the sheets and shook. All his life he had done everything he could to avoid being seen as some sex object, to be treated or sold off as one. Spock would probably look down on him like he had when they first met. No, it would be worse. Spock had saw him as nothing but a possible useful meat shield then. He probably saw him as even less than that now.

No. He would be fine. He’d just have to prove him wrong. He’d stop sleeping with Spock. He’d throw himself more into his studies. He’d focus more on his training. But he would refuse to be thought of as a stupid whore.

The door to the room swished open, and Jim found himself tense, waiting to see what Spock would do or say first. He watched Spock, meeting his eyes with defiance.

“I see you have awakened,” Spock said, unfazed by the human’s gaze. “You have been unconscious for the past 13.36 hours. If you had continued to sleep, I would have had to inform Dr. McCoy of your condition.” Spock placed a tray of food on the nightstand.

Jim couldn’t help but glance at the food. There was a large variety: a bowl of mixed fruit, a bowl of spaghetti, a hamburger, some type of purplish clear soup, a salad, and a bowl of greens. Spock took the soup and settled in an armchair in the living area. The partition was still retracted so Jim had full view of the Vulcan who seemed to have ignored him after the food delivery. His stomach gurgled loudly with hunger. Was the food meant for him?

He didn’t touch a thing though. What if it was laced with something? Spock didn’t do nice. Letting him stay here? Bringing him food? There had to be a reason behind the behavior. But he did feel weak. He needed to eat something soon; however, he didn’t trust that he could stand without collapsing. He wouldn’t be able to leave the room on his own just yet to procure himself some food.

“You brought a lot of food,” Jim spoke out, keeping his voice as neutral as he could.

“I do not particularly pay attention to what humans tend to eat, nor do I know if you have any allergies to specific foods, so I selected a variety for you to choose from.” Spock didn’t turn his way, just concentrated on his soup and what looked like a file on the coffee table in front of him.

Despite what Spock had said, each item on the tray was one of his favorite foods. He ate them quite often in the mess hall. The awareness of that fact put him even more on edge. What was Spock playing at?

Not hearing the sound of Jim eating, Spock turned his head to look at him again. There was no sign of condescending eyes or a lustful gaze, just his usual indifference. “I suggest you consume sustenance to replenish your strength so that you may leave my quarters as soon as you are able. It is inconvenient to have to correct your earlier blunder and keep it hidden from the crew.”

So all of this was to protect his image? Jim felt relief at that information. Spock’s behavior made much more sense. Of course, Spock wouldn’t want anyone to know about Jim being in his quarters or how he got into that mess in the first place. With much gusto, he grabbed the burger first, nearly choking as he shoveled it into his mouth.

“If food constructs your airway, I will not help you.”

Jim chuckled which did make him choke a little. “You’re chatty today,” he said with a full mouth, spraying food onto the bed.

Spock’s eyebrow twitched just slightly. “Perhaps you are still in a state of delusion.”

Everything was normal.  The way Spock spoke and addressed him. The way his words were cold but not entirely unwelcoming. Maybe all the events he had remembered was a dream. His chewing grinded to a halt. Was it a dream? It hadn’t felt like it. He remembered every detail so vividly. His body still shook with pleasure just remembering how Spock commanded him with his low voice and the intensity of his gaze. If his body didn’t feel so heavy and exhausted, it would gladly ask for more.

But that wasn’t him. He wasn’t subservient, he fought. He was in control. He had to be in control. If it was real, he could chalk it up to a drug, but if it was his own mind…then did that mean he kind of liked the idea of being under that bastard’s control?

“So…you’re into master/slave sex huh.” Jim stopped breathing the moment the words left his lips.

“Apparently. I am your master, and you are my slave,” Spock said without hesitation. It was true, but not quite what Jim had meant. Maybe it had been a dream. “However, you rarely act your position with such enthusiasm as you had last night. I had found it … interesting.”

Jim’s eyes widened at the admission. “Yeah well, don’t ever expect it again.” He stumbled over his words, truthfully unsure what to say to Spock’s confession.

Spock quirked his eyebrow. “I expect not. I do not believe you to be incompetent enough to allow yourself to become drugged by a Regalian a second time.”

“Well, now I know your weakness. Master,” he teased, laughing at the way Spock’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Spock understood that that part of him wasn’t real, just manufactured. Fear melted away from his posture and he finished eating. He hadn’t lost anything. Everything was good. Everything was still the same.

* * *

 

Spock watch Kirk leave his room with a limp. Kirk’s recovery speed was rather impressive even if he was faking his wellbeing. If he had time, Spock would have inquired about the information further with Doctor McCoy. Right now, however, he had to beam down to further complete the negotiations.

Ridding the last of Kirk’s presence in his room, Spock showered and dressed for his final meeting. Sovik and Serik were already waiting for him. While both had stood guard over his quarters last night, neither knew of Kirk’s presence in his room. He was also fortunate that the late Captain Pike had soundproofed his room. Judging from their lack of expressions, neither suspected anything was out of place.

“You’re late,” Serik stated.

“I had to check in on Kirk’s status with the doctor. He should be fully recovered in a few days.”

“A few?” Sovik asked.

“I could not get a more precise answer. He is however off the remainder of the mission.”

“Obviously.” They said together.

Spock stepped onto the platform and gave the signal for the beam down. The ensign scrambled to do as ordered, working the control board. The familiar tingle of the transporter pulled at his molecules.

As he rematerialized, he had only a split second to recognize the blade coming at him. Sovik recognized the danger far sooner than he did, already pulling Spock back by his collar just out of reach as Serik already moved to kick back the attacker with a swift strike to the mid chest. The attacker stumbled back only a step, but Sovik had his phaser already drawn., taking the very accurate shot to the center of the forehead.

Regaining his balance, Spock dove back, rolling off the platform to take cover while simultaneously drawing his own phaser. Sovik followed. Serik had kicked the now deceased body one final time into the group of attackers, blocking the initial gunfire and knocking two off balanced, before doing a one handed back handspring to the left and hiding behind one of the pillars just as several shots nearly hit him.

Sovik took the opportunity created by his brother, aiming for two distracted shooters that were visible behind their pillars. The raised transporter platform barely offered any cover for Sovik and Spock, but the open room offered little protection for the attackers as well. Spock chanced a quick glance, memorizing the layout of the enemies in that instant. There were three more still standing. None of Sovik’s shots had missed. The attackers were not what attracted Spock’s attention. In the hall, he spotted the representative, the queen’s chosen mate, running off.

In the corner of his eye, Spock spotted an attacker jump down from the ceiling with a rope in hand behind Serik. Hand to hand with Serik was a poor choice. The rope went around the Vulcan’s neck. Serik turned sharply, crushing his attacker against the pillar, making her loosen her grip from the impact. He took the opening to slip his fingers underneath the rope with hand and used his superior Vulcan strength to pull the rope away leaning forward, having the woman attached with it rolling forward over the Vulcan’s head and onto the floor. Serik brought his heel down, crushing her throat before she could even sit up.

Spock took out another attacker with two shots, the first shot hitting her pelvis and the next the center of the chest, killing her. Sovik took another single shot kill, when another attacker barely poked her head out to check out the situation.

Sovik’s accuracy never failed to impress and demoralize the enemy. The last attacker went running for the exit in an attempt of a retreat, exposing her back to them. Sovik didn’t miss.

“It’s been 2.4 years since I had the opportunity to see you both fight together.” Spock said, standing up.

“Yes. We’ve become out of practice,” Sovik said standing up.

“Indeed. The battle should have ended 5. 9 seconds sooner than it did,” Serik stepped out from behind the pillar going to the bodies. “Three of these warriors were at the banquet.”

“I noticed,” Spock said, kneeling to inspect the bodies. “I believe it is time to speak to her highness about this new development.”

 They left the bodies behind. Serik taking point and Sovik bringing up the rear, both with their phasers drawn in preparation for another attack. The halls were mostly empty, but the warriors that remained kept an eye on them. Interestingly enough, no one interfered with their search.

Spock signaled Sovik and Serik to stop outside the queen’s bedroom, the location of where negotiations had taken place the previous two nights. He pulled back the heavy ebony curtain and walked in.

The room was one of the few rectangular rooms Spock had entered while on this planet and one of the few with walls rather than exposed to the open forest air. There were two parts of the room. To the left, a large round bed situated on a raised section of the floor, two marble steps covered in plush red carpet leading up to it. Weapons were hung up on the walls, some used, the others untouched. The last notable object on that side of the room was the large metal pole beside the bed with a pair of handcuffs attached to them.

To the right was the section Spock was more familiar with. This section of the room was sunken into the ground with a step leading down. There were cushioned wooden chairs facing each other and a bookcase full of parchment and data pads as well as a long stone table in between the stairs.

A fire pit was situated in the center of the room, a fire blazing with some sort of animal roasting over it, heating the overly warm room. If it wasn’t for the planet’s natural humidity, the heat would almost feel like Vulcan.

The queen was lounging on her bed in what looked like the same attire from their previous meetings, the slit exposing her legs as she sat up. “Captain,” she purred. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. I thought you’d be too tired to continue these meetings,” her lips curled into a smile. “Not that you didn’t indulge.”

Spock’s eyes glanced at the entrance. She had said it rather quietly, so there was little chance of being overheard. “Distracting conversation is something you seem to excel at.”

Her mate, who was sitting on the stairs leading up to the bed, shivered, a fresh, shallow cut present across his chest. The queen caressed his cheek absent mindedly, barely paying attention to him.

“What distraction? Merely stating what my nose is telling me. Now,” she leaned forward. “May I ask why you came to me instead of waiting to be called?”

“I have a similar query. Why did you send assassins rather doing the honor yourself?”

She laughed. “Assassins? You believe that I would jeopardize negotiations? I thought you were smart.”

“Do you deny the accusations then?”

He eyes had a hint of amusement in them as she responded, “How can I control the actions of every individual member of my species?”

“You are their queen, are you not?”

“You are men and stand for everything we are against. It cannot be helped that there are those who would rather die than accept your aid. However, we do need your technology. I wouldn’t risk that.”

“And I suppose I am to believe that the reason I saw your mate at the scene was because he was coming to retrieve me and happen to see the battle?”

“Of course. He just informed me when you walked in. I thought I should reward him for his service.”

Spock noticed her mate already shivering with anticipation. It seemed the drug worked quicker and more efficiently on their own species. “Right before our meeting? Or did you mistakenly assume you would have more time than you did with this incident?”

“So suspicious,” she stood, dropping the physical contact she had with her mate. He let out a soft whimper, but said nothing nor attempted to move from the spot even as his source of pleasure moved away from him.  “What can I do to make you trust me?”

“Very little, as there is no one I fully trust.” Spock still had his phaser in his hands, his grip tightening.

“I see. That is a problem.” She glanced at his hand and changed direction, heading to the wall of weapons. “We can’t have that. What to do to change your mind?”

Spock stood quietly, watching her every move.

“I know what I can do.” She gestured to the sitting area. “I’ve been hesitant on signing, yes? What if I signed right now, including a small bonus to keep this mishap between us.”

“Approximately how much is a ‘small bonus’?” Spock asked, waiting for her to pass first before going to the chairs.

She sat down, pulling a piece of parchment towards her. After a moment of thought, she wrote down a number. “How about this?”

Spock didn’t sit, but he could see the number from where he stood. “That is quite a large sum.”

“Is it? Gold and jewels do not matter much to my people. We prefer strong metals over shiny stones. We don’t mind parting with it.”

What she said was true, Spock knew this. “Allow me to read over the final draft once more.”

“Of course.”

It took a better part of half an hour to read over the contract. Nothing was changed from what they had agreed on, and there were no loop holes for the Regalians to take advantage of. There was one possible loop hole the empire could use though it would be difficult to act upon. The technology was needed desperately by the Regalian people and by all the facts presented, there was nothing for the Regalians or the Empire to lose making this deal. Both sides would get what they desired.  “Very well. I will leave it to for you to sign first.”

“Gladly.” She picked up a pen to sign. There was no hesitation, she just leaned forward and signed. “Waiting on you, Captain.”

Spock took the pen next and signed. “It is completed.”

“Wonderful,” the queen smiled at him. “I think I’ve kept my mate waiting long enough.” She extended her hand, and her mate came to her call, running to her and taking a knee at her side. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a threesome? This one has quite a talented tongue and lots of stamina, probably more so than your Terran lover.”

“My needs are more than met. I do not desire more. If you would excuse me.” He bowed his head, turning his back on her. He never replaced his phaser back on his hip, keeping it firmly in his grasp as he walked out. If he had a choice, he would have kept his front to her, not allowing her to have a chance to attack him, but he did not believe backing out of the room would do him any favors, just make him seem extremely rude after practically accepting a bribe.

Thinking of the money, he felt…relief. For once he would have good news to report. Something that would finally help. Serik and Sovik attended to him the moment he stepped out of the room, taking their positions once more. The beam up went without problems.

Spock immediately dismissed the ensign in the room and handed Sovik the PADD carrying the copy of the contract. “I trust you will archive this properly?”

“It will be logged immediately,” Sovik responded. He bowed, immediately leaving to do just that.

“You haven’t made this month’s report yet.” Serik looked down at his young master. “Will you allow us to accompany you today?”

Instead of answering, Spock walked away. Serik stayed where he was, letting him walk off alone. This was the only time they wouldn’t put up a fight in guarding him. For that, he was grateful. If they had insisted, he wouldn’t have stopped them. They were his sa-mehk after all, but he needed this. Time by himself, which was why it was random and kept a secret every month.

Spock took the lift to the proper floor and got off, going to the prepared room and locking the door behind him. The terminal was already on, and he waited for the call to connect. He must control his emotions. He closed his eyes. He was in control. When the call connected, he met the cold gaze of the woman on the other side, feeling nothing, showing nothing. “Na’shaya, T’Pau.”

* * *

Spock exited the room, eyes distant. Everything went well. He could bring down the mental barriers to something more manageable, but he was hesitant to do so. This was the first time he had managed complete control. He wouldn’t be able to maintain it for much longer; however, it was progress. He was that much closer to achieving his ultimate goal.

Serik and Sovik would be waiting for him on deck 5, just outside the turbo lift as always. His journey to the lift was a short one. Just a few steps from the room he had locked himself in. There shouldn’t have been any problems.

He stepped onto the lift. Before he could even turn around and order the lift to the correct floor, he felt a searing hot pain in his chest. Spock blinked then looked down at chest, seeing the dark green stain rapidly growing larger. His legs gave out, and he fell face first into the control panel, the doors closing behind him.

* * *

 Jim was running. He had barely heard the news. It was only by chance the rumors had reached him. He nearly ran down a few crew members to get there. He barely caught sight of it, Serik and Sovik leaning over a biobed before the door to the private ward blocked his view.

So it was true. Spock had been shot.

“Kid, what the hell are you doing here?” McCoy was running past him, for once actually dressed in his medical scrubs, wearing rubber gloves stained with green blood. “You know what, nevermind. I don’t have time to deal with you. Move aside.” The doctor shoved past him, heading towards the private ward.

He still felt weak, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. How bad was the injury if McCoy wouldn’t even stop to yell at his appearance?

Looking around, he saw his favorite nurse. Strange, McCoy usually had her assisting him.  “Yo, Nurse Chapel.” Unable to help himself, he groped her behind. “Looking good as usual.”

She smiled and playfully pushed him away. “Hands to yourself, mister. At least wait until the ogre’s away.”

He smiled at her nickname for McCoy. “So, what’s the news on Spock? He kick the bucket yet?”

At the mention of Spock, he noticed her smile turn more predatory. “Not yet, but it was close. He lost a lot of blood before the twin androids got him here. Whoever shot him was good. Dead center of the chest. Lucky for him, his heart isn’t located in the center of the chest.”

“It isn’t?” he asked surprised.

The young woman shook her head. “If Vulcan’s weren’t freaks enough, it’s located where our liver is. They don’t have sweat glands either.”

“That would explain a lot,” he murmured to himself, thinking back on their nights together. Spock never seemed to sweat. He had mistakenly assumed it was because Spock just wasn’t as into it as he was. Spock seemed the type to view sex as a physical need that had to be taken care of and a rather inconvenient need at that.

 Images of their previous night together slipped into the forefront of his thoughts, reddening his cheeks. Perhaps he should revise his opinion on that particular subject.

“I should go before McCoy finds time to harass me. See you around Christine.”

She waved. She’d be cuter if she wasn’t a backstabbing bitch and a rapist. Hell, he saw her drug some sucker and take advantage of him the last time he went to fetch McCoy for lunch. With that predatory gaze, Jim knew she had her sights on Spock. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. It wasn’t like she’d be able to get close with the twins nearby. Maybe he should kill her… just in case.

Jim left medbay, deep in thought. He wasn’t on duty, but he couldn’t let things stay the way they were either. It was time to check the worth of his own network.

Farrell was easy enough to find. He was in the monitor room. With Sulu acting captain, Farrell gave his approval for Jim to go through security. “Been a while Kirk. Thought that Vulcan master of yours was working you to death.”

“Sorry. Hope you told the guys I was joining the next round of poker.”

Farrell grinned. “Of course I did. You’re our cash cow.” He chortled, spinning his chair so he can face him. “So, how is the captain?”

“Alive, but I thought I’d check up on some things first. If you don’t mind doing me a bit of a favor.”

Farrell looked at him skeptically. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll make sure you get something. Have I ever let you down before?”

“No,” Farrell said slowly. “But its funny how you’re always coming to me for things.”

“What can I say, I think I’m starting to see you as an ally,” Jim put on a charming smile.

Farrell grunted, leaning forward to type into the computer. “I’ll be honest, the Vulcans have their own information network and have their own operatives working on the case. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to find for you. It’d better to ask them.”

“Like they’d trust a slave with that kind of information.”

“Touché.” Farrell pulled up what he could find which really wasn’t much. “All it really says is that the captain just recently signed a contract with the Regalians which was sent to Starfleet HQ less than an hour ago. If you want the details on that, you’ll have to talk to the head communications officer.”

“Anything else? Strange activity? Rumors?”

“The only thing strange is that no one has moved to finish the job. Normally there would be a follow up or someone bragging. Other than that, the Vulcan trio signed for new power packs for their personal phasers. If I had to guess, they used their phasers recently, but there has been no recorded activity on planet or the ship.”

“Is that right?” Jim drawled, mauling over the information. Something critical was missing to put this all together. Maybe Uhura could give him the last piece.

“Hey, Kirk?”

“Hm,” he responded, not giving the ex-bodyguard any mind.

“Why are you going so far to help him? I thought you hated the captain.”

“Because if I don’t, I’ll be killed─” the word tampered off as he thought. Didn’t Spock say that if his heart rate fell below acceptable levels, he’d feel pain? Chapel had clearly stated that they had almost lost him.

“I guess that’s most of the people on the ship,” Farrell hadn’t noticed his falter.

“Yeah it is. Tough life for us underlings.” With a slap on the shoulder, Jim got ready to leave. “I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t play too much poker without me.”

“We’ll try not to.”

Locating Uhura next was a little more difficult as she wasn’t on the bridge as he had suspected, but rather the rec room with a chess board, and a book on basic chess strategies. “That eager to impress him?” Jim asked, taking a seat much to his body’s relief. He was a bit surprised at her commitment though.

“He enjoyed our first game so much, he invited me for a second game,” she said smugly.

“Did he now?” Jim was no longer smiling. “Looks like my advice went a long way.”

Closing her book, she set it down on the table. “I admit, I thought you were full of shit, but it worked. He even talked to me about his research. I never knew he could sound like a kid during Christmas.”

“Is that right?” Spock never spoke to him about his research. Not that he cared. Those topics sounded boring anyway. “You hear about Spock?”

“I did. Thought I could entertain him with chess after he woke up from his trance. Assuming someone else doesn’t try to kill him that is.”

“So you really want to get into his pants that bad huh?” Jim said, solving the chess puzzle she had been working on.

“Considering I’m practicing something I hate to do it, what do you think?”

“Alright, if you do something for me, I’ll give you another hint,” saying it left a bad taste in his mouth, but he got the desired reaction from her.

“What do you want this time?”

“The contract Spock signed with the Regalians. Can you read through it and tell me what you see?”

“Already did.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. “I was actually wondering if I could get you to look into it for me actually.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Absolutely nothing. It’s a solid arrangement which is why I don’t trust it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You read the reports, right?” At Jim’s nod, she continued. “A matriarch race, who inherently hate traditionally male dominated species and value war and valor, according to the captain’s report, acted civil and towards them and offered a deal too good to refuse. Even with their dire situation, he should have felt more resistance. Spock thought so too. He made a note in the logs about it being too easy and would be looking further into them.”

So Spock had thought something was off too. That didn’t help with finding what the last piece was though. Growling he leaned back into his own chair. That was when he caught sight of the young Russian boy at the pool tables, yelling something in his native tongue. “Who’s the kid?”

Uhura followed his stare and lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Ensign Pavel Checkov. He’s a co-pilot and navigator.”

“And what’s his specialty?”

“Specialty? I’m not sure. I think he’s good with computers, but I don’t think I’ve seen him leave the co-pilot seat.”

Jim’s lips curled at the corners. “I’ll take the request for you.” He got up abruptly, ignoring her stuttering completely at his sudden rudeness. Her actions didn’t matter to him, but he did figure out a little something Spock and the other had been trying to hide from him.

The boy named Checkov looked up from being bent over the table with a pool stick in his hand. “Can I help you?” the boy asked in a strong accent.

“I have a job I think you might like.”

* * *

 

Serik and Sovik stepped out of the private ward, shooed out by the cankerous doctor once the young master went into his healing trance. They had been lucky. It seemed Spock used the last moment of consciousness to send the turbolift to deck 5 as he fell.

“We should not have allowed him to do as he wished,” Sovik whispered

“He is the nu’ri-trensu. We would be unable to argue even if we wished it. He is of age.”

“Not until his Pon Farr.”

“Control your emotions, Sovik. Spock is no longer a child. We cannot continue to treat him as such. We can only offer guidance.”

“And if he continues to choose the wrong path?”

Serik looked over to his brother. “Have more trust in him. Spock has always done what needed to be done. Never doubt him.”

Sovik’s eyes shifted left, and Serik turned to see the intruder as well. Kirk was sauntering up to them with a PADD in hand. Neither had seen the human since the banquet. He looked a little worse for wear as if he was getting over an illness, but knowing how crafty the human could be, they didn’t lower their guard as he approached.

“Have you finished your intelligence collection?” Sovik asked, hand on his phaser.

A frown marred the human’s features as well as confusion. “How’d you know?”

“We were informed. There is little you do that we are not aware of, including your trip to security and associating with Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov.”

“Well that saves me some time. You want revenge for Spock right?” 

“Revenge is for those who cannot control their emotions and act irrationally in response.” Serik stated. “We are not so weak minded to seek such a thing.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to get the person who tried to take advantage of your captain?”

Serik looked over at his brother who glanced back. “You have a plan?”

Jim grinned. “Of course.”

* * *

 

The queen walked into her room in all her naked glory. Clothes were for guests and banquets. Otherwise it was a distraction, a hindrance, an obstacle in battle. Scars littered her skin that she showed off with pride, proof of her survival and victories. Having to wear clothes in front of those male aliens was exhausting.

“You have a nice body. I can see why Spock would want to get you in bed.” She whirled around at the sound of the foreign voice. “If he wasn’t such a stick in the mud, I bet he’d love to.”

Jim was sitting in her sitting area, feet propped up on the table.

“How’d you get in here?” She demanded moving to get one of the many weapons that had decorated her wall only to find they weren’t there.

“Beamed straight here. I know it’s rude, but we didn’t think you’d let us back here so easily.” Jim sat up, holding a phaser in his hand and aimed at the queen. “It was quite smart on your part, your highness. Staging the nuclear wars so that it had the least amount of damage on your environment but raising the radiation levels enough to fool the empire into believing you were desperate for the technology to remove it was really gutsy. Especially since it could help you towards your real goal. An armada of ships to attack the empire, right?”

The queen hissed, baring her sharpened canines at him. “These are some accusations human. I assume you come with proof?”

“I had someone hack into your computer and recover your construction plans for the new ships. I’m surprised the empire hadn’t realized the potential the radiation purifier technology. It could even help reduce the need for dilithium crystals. Either way, it’s safe to say the deals off.”

She gave a cold laugh that could send fear down a lesser man’s spine. “This is why I hate patriarch-based species. Their men always think they have control. That they always have all the cards. And then they act cocky once they think they have the upper hand. It’s disgusting.”

She drew a dagger from the holster on her thigh. “It is a shame Captain Spock had to die though. He seemed different from the other males. He was so loyal to his human whore.” Jim narrowed his eyes at that. “But just like the others, he took bribe money without a second thought.”

“Your bluff is pathetic. You knew Spock wouldn’t just accept the money. You attacked him when he last came on planet to hurry him into signing the contract, but you knew he didn’t fully trust you even afterwards. You knew Spock would look further into your plans and find out about the armada you were building. That’s why you had him attacked the second time, to kill him before he could prove or find out anything. You’d have your contract and no one would suspect anything until it was too late.”

“Ah, the whore has brains. I see the captain spent time training other things than just your body. How’d you like the drug by the way? When the captain returned, he smelt so strongly of you that I almost wanted to puke.”

“This _whore,_ as you put it, has the phaser.”

“And what do you plan to do with that phaser? Kill me? Start a war? You have nothing.”

“You really think I wouldn’t come down here without a plan?” Jim threw two gold bracelets onto the table, watching the queen still at the sight of them. “I’m sure your mate is being _well_ taken care of right now by the way.”

“You think I care about him?” Her calm tone was forced.

“More than you pretend to. I found it odd when you kept bringing him everywhere. You even let him represent you. When your women were uncomfortable at the banquet, I assumed it was because of me and Spock, but that wasn’t it. Yeah they were uncomfortable, but they had their attention divided between me and you. I had to question him before you arrived to find out why. It was because you were letting him sit at the table even if it was on the floor next to you. Outsiders wouldn’t have understood what that meant, and you were right. We didn’t.”

“Where is he?” She snarled.

“If I told you that? It wouldn’t be a hostage situation, would it?” He laughed.  “I admit, this sort of thing isn’t my style, but it is Spock’s, cornering an opponent like this.” His laughter stopped. “How does it feel being out smarted by a _male_ whore.”

“Bastard!”

She came charging at him with her dagger. She was faster than Jim had expected. He got the shot off, but did little to no damage on stun. He cursed Sovik and Serik for not taking off the lock. He practically fell to the side to avoid the dagger from plunging into his chest. Serik’s training kicked in, and he instantly responded, sending a kick to her midsection.

From the odd position, the kick didn’t have much power, and she acted like she couldn’t feel it. She swiped at the offended leg with the knife, cutting into the flesh of his calf.

Jim bit his cheek through the pain as he landed hard on the floor. Before he could get up, she was already on top of him, knife in his side. He did cry out this time unable to contain it. “Give him back!” she screamed.

“Crazy bitch,” he bit out. “You kill me, he dies.” He smiled cruelly. “Or maybe I’ll have him rapped before he dies. Then again, it probably isn’t rape if he’s begging for it. Tell me, do you have him high on your poison?”

She raised her fist and struck his face. “You touch him, and you’ll feel every pain he does.”

Jim spit blood to the side, but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Does it piss you off to have your property stolen?”

“Damn it.” She struck him again, this time at his ribs, hearing a loud crack. He couldn’t even defend himself. She was too strong and fast; however, she didn’t touch the knife. After being punched a second time, Jim coughed up a bit of blood.

“A temper tantrum doesn’t change anything,” he gritted out. The last attack definitely damaged his kidneys. “He’s still mine.”

“Dammit!” She raised her fist again, but didn’t strike him again. “What do you want?” She asked, her voice calm, but the look of defeat was in her eyes.

“I have a small list.” Very precariously he sat himself up, not daring to remove the knife. “The first is compensation for the second attack on the captain. After all, the attack on him is an attack against the empire. The second, is that you send half of your new armada to the empire’s aid.”

“Only half?” she glared. The distaste of the idea was evident on her face, like she rather cut off her arm.

“It’s not like I like the empire. Half is fine with me. Send the other half to the rebels for all I care, I just want you to pay for touching something that wasn’t yours to mess with. You see,” Jim took out the knife from his side and brandished the weapon. “The only one allowed to kill Spock, is me.”

Gritting her teeth she got off the floor, pacing like a caged animal. “I’ll draw up another contract.”

“Just for the armada’s aid. The compensation will be made out to me. No record.”

“Of course,” she forced out. She left the room.

Sighing, his body collapsed against the stone table, and his vision blurred. At least he lasted this long. With shaking hands, he pulled out his communicator. “Kirk to Serik. Kirk to Serik.”

“Serik here. I take it your plan was successful.”

“Yeah. Come get me will ya? I can’t move.”

“Very well.” The bastard hung up.  

Jim laughed as his vision began to fade. Well what could he expect when he just did something so stupid. He heard someone materialize behind him but too weak to move from his spot. “Took your time, bastard. You’re late.”

“Getting the acting captain’s permission was more difficult than expected. The contract?”

“She’s getting it ready,” Jim’s head bobbed, trying to stay conscious. “I think Bones will really kill me this time,” he murmured. “Is Spock awake yet?”

He felt the Vulcan’s eyes on him. “Not yet.”

“Good. I rather not hear his…lectu─” he fell unconscious.

Serik picked up the unconscious human, flipping open his communicator. “Serik here. Two to beam up. Inform the doctor to prepare another bed in the private ward.”

* * *

 

He hated dreams. You could never escape them when you wanted to. He preferred to be awake or meditating, but after almost dying, he unfortunately had no choice in the matter. Being in a trance was even worse. Locked in your body unable to move, but still aware of your surroundings and the dangers they possessed. Nurse Chapel had been holding and molesting his hand. Doctor McCoy had mentioned different experiments he wished he could do with a Vulcan subject. Neither probably knew that he was still aware of what was going despite being trapped in his body. What he hated the most, was that even knowing what these two humans were doing, he was helpless to defend himself.

No, Vulcans did not hate. Even in a trance, he should keep his emotions in check. More importantly, he needed to wake up. Something was wrong. Something had happened to someone. Someone important.

His hand shot up, grabbing a hold of a strong wrist poised to strike him. “You are conscious again, nu’ri-trensu.” Spock followed the wrist in his hold to the person attached to it, noticing Serik on the other end. He should have known. His cheek hurt more than if it had been a human hitting him.

“Indeed.” His eyes wandered to the bed beside him where Kirk was sleeping. “I heard your report while in my trance. So my suspicions were correct?”

“Yes. We have rectified the problem, with Mr. Kirk’s help. While we had the information, we were unable to act. It has been an asset that Mr. Kirk is not officially in Starfleet. He can take actions that we cannot.”

“And the queen’s mate?” Spock asked, pushing the button to help him sit up in bed.

“Returned after Acting Captain Sulu signed the contract. Mr. Sulu was more than happy to cooperate when we gave him a large majority of the compensation her highness gave Mr. Kirk to put the incident aside.”

“And Kirk’s injuries?”

“Blood loss, two broken ribs, punctured kidney, and a cracked cheekbone,” Sovik informed him. “McCoy estimated four days in sickbay and two weeks off training to allow his ribs to fully heal properly. The doctor would also like to remind you that Kirk has been under the skin and bone regenerator too much again this month. Its effectiveness is wearing off and there is an increased chance of side effects from the constant treatments.”

“I will keep it in mind,” Spock responded. “Inform Sulu that I am awake and will resume captain duties in a day. He may want the captain seat, but for now he wants to me to live. The amount of damage he can do in a 24-hour time frame is limited with those goals in mind.”

“I will inform him immediately,” Serik said bowed and left.

“I did not predict you would bring Mr. Kirk into the ward,” Spock found himself looking at the human again.

“Serik believed that he had earned the extra protection. He would never say it aloud, but he was angry that you were attacked and wanted revenge for what they had done. He was pleased that he had found a loop hole he could exploit in Kirk.”

“Mr. Kirk does seem to have earned his keep. He has now saved all of us in one way or another.”

Sovik stepped to the side, cutting of Spock’s line of sight to Kirk. “Yes, your relationship has changed greatly since he has joined us.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not understand what you are implying?”

“Two months ago, Mr. Kirk would have never gone out of his way to save your life at the expense of his own, let alone for revenge. Nor would you have afforded the opportunities you constantly give to him.”

Spock’s eyebrow’s creased. “I do not understand.”

“You have allowed him into your quarters alone for various lengths of time and have even allowed him to stand behind you without your guard up. You have spent time with him outside his reading lessons, something he no longer needs as he has reached the point where he can teach himself, and if I am correct, he is the one you are having intercourse with.”

Spock glanced away, unable to help himself as they both knew this to be true. “When did you become aware?”

“The night you decided to have intercourse the first time, Kirk appeared with finger shaped bruises the next. Afterwards, you make it a point to have Kirk be present for all your rendezvous. That of course was following the awkward treatment you gave him after the first night of intercourse you shared. While you are careful sa-fu, I have known you, and I am more in tune with my instincts and observations than my brother.”

Spock kept his emotions from his face, putting his emotions in a tight black box in his mind. “As you said before Sovik, I am just satisfying my body’s needs. Kirk was more than willing, so we made an arrangement. He would not want this information to leak to the crew as much as I do not wish it. As for Kirk’s behavior, he just wants my knowledge. I have provided it for him with little risk to himself, so he is protecting his most valuable resource. Him and I have a professional relationship both on the ship and in our personal lives. Nothing more or less.”

“Are you positive you are still in control, sa-fu?”

Spock finally returned his gaze to Sovik. It was empty and chilling. “I have not foregone my attempts to reach Kolinahr. I have reached yet another level just before I was attacked. Once my emotions have been purged, you will have no need to worry.”

Sadness danced in the other Vulcan’s eyes though not a muscle budged on his face. “If that is your wish, nu’ri-trensu.”

“I take it Serik is unaware of my interactions with Kirk.”

“No. He still believes it might be Lieutenant Uhura.”

Spock’s eyes drifted to Kirk again. “There is no need to tell him. If I am successful, in a few months, this will all end.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sa-fu : son  
> Na'shaya: Greetings  
> nu'ri-trensu: young master  
> sa-mehk: father.
> 
> Yeah you should know what most of that means by now. If you see a mistake let me know.
> 
> You know the drill, kudos and comments please.


	19. Know my Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is f-ing long. Like seriously, two chapter lengths. 12000 words long. So I may have gotten lazy writing it part way. I definitely got bored editing it myself. So if I miss something or something doesn't make sense, let me know.

Spock shoved his foot into his remaining boot, gratified that the doctor had released him from sickbay without much argument. The doctor initially wanted to protest, but fortunately, some fear still lingered in his gaze when Spock asked what would the doctor do should he defy his command. Perhaps in another world, the chief medical officer could trump the captain’s command under medical code, but this wasn’t that world. Every additional hour spent in sickbay could be deadly to him, whether from a sadistic doctor or an overly ambitious crewmember getting ideas about him being weak.

“My would-be assassin is still onboard correct?” Spock looked up at Serik who stood at the exit to the ward, PADD in his hands. He had been filling him in on the ship’s status the past thirty minutes as Doctor McCoy finished his last checks before releasing him.

“There had been no unauthorized uses of the transporter, neither embarking or disembarking the ship.” Serik typed something into the PADD. “Which would insinuate that the assassin is a legitimate member of the crew assigned by Starfleet.”

“Meaning we have approximately 432 suspects if I exclude you, Sovik, myself, and Mr. Kirk, assuming Mr. Kirk did not put his life in danger to exclude himself as a potential suspect.”

“Excluding Mr. Kirk is logical. Factoring in the Regalian poison, he would have been too weak from the after effects to overwhelm you. Doctor McCoy’s report also stated the last of the effects are still fading, enhancing the probability he was asleep at the time of the attempt and had not overcome it sooner than expected.” Serik handed Spock the PADD.

“This is worth more attention. Regalia has not been in contact with the empire until recently. For the queen of Regalia to make contact with anyone on the ship they would have to go through our communication officers; our source in the communications department has already confirmed that there has been no such signal or message reaching the ship. In order for her highness to make such quick relations with a potential assassin onboard and send a request directly, bypassing the normal long distant subspace communication channels, she would need a specific frequency within communicator range. She would have to previously know who she could trust with minimal contact. This would indicate─”

“That someone in Starfleet is already starting to move against me,” Spock finished. “A situation we have already anticipated.”

“They are moving sooner than expected,” Serik said, handing Spock his phaser.

“Indeed. I had falsely assumed they would want me to be their hostage a while longer before trying to assassinate me.”

“New Vulcan is weakening, and the rebel uprising is increasing fear and ambitious behavior among the higher-ranking officers.”  

“It is within the expected timeframe predicted, even if on the lower end of that calculation,” Spock stated firmly. A disgruntled groan distracted his attention briefly to the biobed beside him at the slowly awaking Kirk. “For now, continue to search for evidence to locate the assassin. I will warn the high counselor about the situation tomorrow evening.”

At Serik’s lack of acknowledgement, Spock looked him straight in the eye. “You may accompany me.” The slightest tension eased from Serik’s stoic expression. The Vulcan had truly been worried for him. Not even a Vulcan would be able to call out Serik with his textbook perfection of Surak’s teachings; no one would be able to tell the inner conflict Spock knowingly caused every time he wished to be alone. But Spock knew. Just the briefest of tells, and Spock could read him. The slightest shift of the eyes, the shortest pause before exhaling to maintain control. Spock had scared him, had him worried. Spock could no longer afford his stubbornness, his, dare he say it, fear of being ostracized for being unable to contain his emotions after these calls to New Vulcan. It was time to take control, over himself and his ship.

“Fuck, I feel like shit,” the quiet, and somewhat slurred, response, drew both Vulcans’ gazes to the weary human who had yet opened his eyes. 

With a few steps, Spock was towering over the human in bed, looking down at him with a quirked eyebrow. “I admit I am curious how one would know how something non-sentient like excrements would feel like.”

A tired smile pulled at the human’s dried and cracked lips. Slowly, blue could be seen under dark blonde eyelashes followed by a short chuckled. “Perfect, just what I wanted to see in the morning; your ugly mug.”

 “It is currently, 2300 hours, Mr. Kirk. It is hardly morning.”

“Come off your high horse already,” he said gruffly. “You can’t be as ignorant as you pretend to be.”

“I would never pretend to be ignorant of anything. To do so would be counterproductive.”

Kirk gave a huff at his response, closing his eyes once more and taking a deep breath. Spock had the urge to call doctor McCoy for what the human was about to do.

“Holy mother of God, shit that hurts like a bitch.” The curses that streamed from the human seemed hardly necessary given how much he asked for the pain most likely throbbing through his entire body.  Trying to sit up with still semi fractured ribs and a barely healed knife wound, gained no sympathy from Spock, especially when the human continued to try to do so anyway.

“It would be wise if you stay still and minimize movement. You are suffering from several severe injuries.”

“Shove it,” the human snapped, but it lacked bite as his strength seemed to leave him and his arms gave out, having him fall back against the pillows once again. “Fuck me,” he murmured.

Spock felt his mouth twitch at the last comment, an unusual phenomenon. He even had the urge to make a rebuttal on Kirks last statement until recalling that Serik was still in the room. “I take it you will not be sleeping then?”

A derisive snort escaped the human. “Sleep is for humans. Glad I’m not one.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at that, but dismissed it as Kirk still being on a lot of painkillers and therefore his mental capacities severely handicapped. Walking to a shelf on the back wall, Spock pulled down an antique, 3D chess set. “Perhaps a game of chess?” he suggested. The game would surely wear out Kirk enough to make him sleep once again.

Expectedly, Kirk nodded, inhaling sharply at the pain the movement caused. “Not tired of getting your ass kicked huh?”

Spock did not dignify that with a response, focused solely on setting up the chess set between them on the swivel table meant to hold patient meals.

Kirk sighed, appearing to resign himself to his fate stuck in sickbay. The table was close enough to Kirk so he did not have to lean forward to move his chess pieces, but he did seem to be in pain lifting his right arm any significant height, forcing the human to use his left.

Spock was content to play in silence. While he was to resume his duties shortly, he had enough time to play a game of chess. He had already been informed of what duties he would need to accomplish once he left sickbay and his ever-active mind was already putting together a schedule on how to finish it all. The fact Kirk could not play at optimal competency only aided in the amount of attention he could divert away from the game.

Even so, Kirk was surprisingly good for his handicapped facilities, and rather than let sleep take over him as Spock suspected, Kirk was fighting to stay awake, and the Human really did not like silence.

“So Bones recommended to me a light read last week. I almost finished the series.”

“I did not take the doctor as someone into literature,” Spock commented, moving his pawn.

Jim chuckled, wincing as he did. “He really isn’t, but he liked the movies so much, he read the books. It’s called _Lord of the Rings_.”

“I would hardly call it a light read. The books would be what Humans would call lengthy.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But it’s interesting,” Jim’s eyes sparkled with mischief even with exhaustion clouding them. “I should start calling you Legolas. You have the ears like an elf.”

“I admit I have not read the books as they were meant for a much younger audience despite its length. Therefore, your attempt at humor or insult does not register with me.”

“I wouldn’t really call it an insult.” Kirk paused longer than normal before making his next move.

“I had suspected you would be reading your new book. You appeared very keen to have it.”

Kirk’s eyes glazed over, whether because of the drugs or an attempt to hide his emotions, Spock wasn’t sure. “My mother,” he finally said after some time. “My mother had the entire book memorized. Every night, before the incident, she would tuck me into bed and quote me a chapter to put me to sleep. She used to say that my father had given her a physical copy on their wedding day.” He moved his knight to a lower level. “My brother Sam, stole and sold the book when I was three. He told her that he was so hungry and the guy who bought it from him offered him money. Not only did he sell off the only item she had left of my dad, he had been scammed not knowing the market price for that book. But she never got angry at him.” He sighed, letting his hand rest on his stomach.

Spock blinked slowly, temporarily distracted from the game. He had not expected such a personal confession from him. Perhaps the drugs were stronger than he had realized. “I was unaware you had a brother.”

“Bastard ran off a month before Chris raped her. I guess he was lucky in that regard. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Spock came to the conclusion that the Human really was drugged out of his mind. Even talking about Pike, he seemed rather relaxed, soaking in the comfort of the memory of his mother rather than stewing in anger from the mention of the deceased Captain Pike. A memory he would not have chosen to divulge otherwise.

“So the book has sentimental value to you rather than a material one.”

Jim nodded, his playing style becoming less structured as time went on, supporting Spock’s hypothesis. “In case she was out there somewhere I’d have something to…but it was always so fucking expensive. Who knew some random rich Vulcans would land in my lap.”

They played in a bit of silence until Kirk asked a very sudden and personal question that took Spock completely off guard. “What’s your mother like?”

Spock wasn’t the only one caught off guard. Serik had become unnaturally stiff as well. “There is no woman I would call mother in my life,” he responded.

Kirk laughed even through the pain the action caused. “I knew you came out of a test tube.”

“In essence, you are not mistaken.” Gradually, without realizing it, Spock’s shoulders began to relax. Talking to a human with clearly compromised mental and physical facilities should not have been as engaging as it was. He had only meant to give himself an activity that could help him focus on the work ahead while keeping his slave from causing himself more harm until Doctor McCoy could return with the official approval of his dismissal from sickbay. This was an unexpected development, and he found, for this instance, he did not care to look into the details. A word he had never liked to use came to mind. Kaidith. What is, is.

So he took his time, defeating Jim, making the game last longer than if it would have if he played to destroy him. Just as he was about to check Jim’s king, the door to the private ward opened, revealing Uhura with her own chess set. “Captain,” she greeted, surprised to see him up and about.

“Lieutenant Uhura, is there something I can assist you with? Whatever calm that had overtaken him during his game with Mr. Kirk, retreated behind iron clad controls; she was met with only stone cold features and dark brown eyes staring into her, clearly unimpressed.

“I heard you had woken up, and thought you might be bored.” Her eyes glanced at the board between himself and Kirk. “I didn’t know you’d be preoccupied already.”

“Have at it. I can’t put up much of a challenge anyway.” Kirk’s words were so heavily slurred at this point, it was a wonder that Spock could still understand him. The Human was being unnecessarily stubborn in staying awake passed his body’s limits. If he wished to leave sickbay sooner, he should take the time to sleep and recover. “I wouldn’t mind watching.”

Spock felt his lips thin just slightly. He could have excused himself to his duties, but he had meant to cultivate a certain trust in the lieutenant. He reset the board and repositioned the table, so she could play comfortably.

He noticed a marked improvement in her skill, but it lacked ingenuity and was very textbook, providing no mental stimulation to beat her, the same as before. She did engage him about the latest scientific journal that had been published while he was asleep, informing him of a star that had gone supernova in another quadrant of the galaxy. He did make some remarks on that, keeping his speech simple enough so she could understand. She was intelligent, but she was no astrophysicist. Her skills lie with communication, a useful skill, but one he held little interest in in large quantities compared to other subjects that dealt with quantitative and theoretical sciences.

The conversation wasn’t what really kept his attention. He was watching Kirk in the corner of his eye. Interestingly, his slave seemed more alert after Uhura had entered the room, specifically to their conversation and chess game. Kirk failed to hide his smug looks when Uhura made simple mistakes or the slight frown on his lips when she said something that peaked Spock’s interest just a bit. Spock could not understand these reactions the human was showing. He was still smiling at Uhura, even throwing a few provocative comments about having sex with her which Uhura blatantly ignored, but it seemed wrong somehow. Like it was cold and forced. Similar to when Spock had first met him in the arena’s sickbay.

“Why the hell are you awake!” The doctor had finally arrived, voice loud and abrupt in the relatively quiet room. “You’re supposed to be out for another two hours at least!”

“What can I say, drugs don’t work on me well,” Kirk shot the doctor a half-hearted leer at the doctor.

“Doesn’t help you keep fighting them. I’m trying to do you a favor and let you sleep through the pain, and you,” he pointed to Spock, a growl in his voice. “you should have gotten me the moment he woke up. Do you have any idea how much pain he’s probably in right now?”

“I would not profess to knowing anything about the inner workings of Mr. Kirk’s mind or his pain tolerance. Nor is it my job to care for your patients, Doctor.” Spock’s reply made the doctor visibly bristle. He had to acknowledge that the doctor had become extremely attached and protective of Mr. Kirk. Why was that?

A chess piece broke within his grip.

“Bones, I’m fine. I’m─” a hypo later and Kirk was out cold within seconds.

“Damn infant, should just shut up already.” With reluctance, Dr. McCoy walked over to Spock, trying to keep his normal scowl from showing. “You’re free to go, Captain, much against my professional opinion might I add.”

“It has been noted.”

“And blatantly ignored,” Doctor McCoy added under his breath.

“If you excuse me, Lieutenant, I must attend to my duties now that I have been cleared from sickbay.” Spock nodded his head to her intending to leave immediately.

“Shall we continue later?” She asked. “My quarters?”

Spock glanced at her. He felt no inclination to finish the chess game with her. Still he said, “Very well.” If he were to face an invisible enemy, he would need allies.

He pulled out his PADD, reading over the latest report, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. There was one report that Serik hadn’t informed him of.

“Serik,” it was all he needed for the Vulcan to fall in line with him. He would leave some guards to protect Kirk, but for now this took precedence. Undoubtedly, Serik had not expected Spock to ignore his PADD and engage in an activity with Mr. Kirk, else he would have hinted the urgency, but like him, Serik had realized Kirk’s tendency to pick up much with very little to go on and did not risk inferring that there was something in addition that could not be spoken out loud.

Spock could only quickly glance at the information, internalizing the information necessary to do his job as efficiently as possible. This would have to be dealt with delicately. He was barely out of sickbay before he pressed the wall intercom. “Mr. Sulu, change course to outpost 1 near the Romulan Neutral Zone, increase speed to warp factor 6. Inform me when we are ten minutes out. Can Lieutenant Briggs discern the difference between Romulan dialects?”

There was a brief silence before a gruff, “No, sir, he cannot,” came over the speaker.

He shared a look with Serik. “Serik will come to relieve Mr. Briggs. Tell Mr. Ferrall to attend to Serik’s normal duties. Spock out.”

Serik was staring at him; he could feel his gaze on his back. “Why not have Lieutenant Uhura, take Ms.Brigg’s place? You will draw attention having Sovik or I intercepting Romulan transmission.”

“Because she would be able to identify the difference between Romulan and Vulcan and that could be more detrimental to us.”

Serik nodded in understanding. Spock knew he wished to voice his internal protests about taking human guards, but Serik did not argue. “It will take approximately 4 days to reach the outpost. We will most likely be too late to save them.”

“A high probability that we will not, but there are other outposts that are likely to be the next targets. There are few Empire vessels in the area at this time due to the Klingon threats and rebel interference. It provides the perfect opportunity to take out several outposts before reinforcements arrive. We may be able to corner the ship and solidify our usefulness to the empire.”

“A calculated risk,” Serik finished. “Very well. I will relieve Lieutenant Briggs, Captain. I will contact Sovik as well.”

“Very well.” Serik paged for his brother before casting one last glance at Spock and leaving to complete the tasks handed to him. Spock patiently waited for Sovik to come attend to him. He was aware of the weakness in his twin sa-mehks, that he was the cause, but he was not Vulcan enough to turn a blind eye to their fears and continue his selfish behavior. The constant supervision would be tiring but nothing he would be unable to handle.

Sovik was at his side within two minutes, followed by the human guard he had called .92 minutes later. Four days. Kirk would be up in four days. And they would reach the outpost by then as well. This situation might turn out to be quite fascinating.

* * *

 

His body hurt. That’s all his mind could register when Jim woke the next time in sickbay. It didn’t just hurt, it felt heavy. Most likely due to the amount of drugs Bones had pumped him up with. But his body was used to tranquilizers, so their affects often didn't last as long.

Struggling to open his eyes, he tried to remember what happened. He remembered Spock. He remembered playing chess and Uhura too. He found himself frowning at the thought of the woman. She really should give up on chess. Spock looked positively bored. How did she not notice that? And why did Spock keep accepting chess invitations from her if he wasn’t interested.

Withholding a groan, he sat up, looking around the medical bay. He was in the private ward, void of the people. The bed Spock had occupied was stripped of its sheets and a clean set lay innocently at the foot.  The chess set however still sat innocently on the side table, but it wasn’t Uhura and Spock’s game on it. Someone had reset the game to the moment Spock and Jim had been interrupted, with Jim’s king in check. Smiling, Jim looked over the incomplete game. There really had been no strategy on his side. He couldn’t even remember what he had in mind during the game, and Spock’s pieces were arranged to slowly close in on him and destroy his pieces one at a time.

Spock could have easily destroyed him from the beginning, could have overpowered him and been merciless in his strategy, just like the first time they played together in the rec room a month ago. Instead, Spock gave him ample chances to retaliate, slowly surrounding him and sparing Jim’s pieces. “Mercy Spock?” he whispered with a small smile on his lips.

His body protested, his side throbbing painfully as he twisted to reach the chess board. With a small grin, he took his king out of check with his knight, taking Spock’s bishop. Spock’s move.

The door swished open, and Jim’s body tensed. Even with Bones attending him, he was never comfortable with people seeing him vulnerable. To his surprise, it wasn’t McCoy who entered, but─

“Janice, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Seriously, he hadn’t expected her at all. Her hair curled and framing her face, and she was drenched in perfume. She reeked of someone desperate, a type he usually went for; it made them easier to play.

“Well, Jim, you have been out for four days.”

He started, leaning forward with such haste, he ignored the throbs of pain. “Four days?” He repeated in disbelief. Anger welled up in his chest towards the doctor who had undoubtedly made sure to keep him under for that long. It left a distaste in his mouth, like he had eaten a live Klingon dish left to rot in his mouth.

“You’re our resident sleeping beauty.” She sauntered up to his bed. “And so loved. I had to flirt my way in here. Even then I had to wait for the Vulcans to be distracted. I’m glad you woke up when you did.”

She slid onto the bed, her short skirt lifting farther up, pressing herself against his side. “My present won’t go to waste.” She placed a PADD onto his lap. “The plans we discussed.”

That caught his attention. Picking up the PADD, he scanned through the contents. “You really believe you can pull this off?”

“Sweetheart, just leave it to me,” she purred into his ear then licked the shell. “When you have time, we should get to know each other a bit better.” Her hand touched his thigh and was gradually moving up with every word.

“I bet you’re super flexible,” he whispered, staring down her shirt. “And creative too.”

“No doubt.”

Her hand slipped under his hospital gown. “Or we can get to know each other now?” She nipped at his ear, and Kirk felt a spike of arousal.

“The medical bay is no place for sexual conjugations, Mr. Kirk.”

The sudden sound of Sovik’s voice made both Jim and Janice jump out of their skins. How the hell did Vulcans manage to sneak up on him when the door literally made sounds when they opened?

To Janice’s credit, she was not openly intimidated and didn’t immediately get out of his bed. She did it languidly as if it was perfectly normal to be in bed with him, but Sovik’s attention wasn’t on Janice. It was on Jim.

It may have been his imagination, but Jim swore Sovik didn’t like him. Not since day one. And recently, he felt that dislike had increased to where he was constantly watched by the guy. That made things difficult. He doubted Spock would want to fuck him if his precious fathers knew about it. Oh, and it would be harder to complete his own agendas as well.

“I’ll see you later, Jim,” she sang, sliding past Sovik to leave, PADD in hand.

He offered no response to her. He kept his gaze locked with Sovik’s. “As flattered as I am that you came to see me, Sovik, you must want something, right?”

“Doctor McCoy will arrive momentarily to release you. Once cleared, the captain would like to see you on the bridge to resume duty immediately.”

“Yeah, yeah, work me to death, no breaks, I got it already. You know you aren’t as intimidating as you think.”

The Vulcan’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to piss off a Vulcan, but he couldn’t help but push.

Sovik may have prepared a rebuttal, but the opportunity vanished when McCoy all but pushed pass him with a tricorder in hand. “Kid, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Seriously? Do you want me to die early?”

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Bones,” he said lightly, until his voice dropped to a deadly level. “You kept me under for four days after all.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, brat. You’re as bad as the Vulcans when it comes to staying in sickbay. Knowing you, you wouldn’t stay still and bleed all over my sickbay instead of letting that knife wound heal.” The doctor pressed against his still injured ribs to prove his point, drawing out a pained hiss from his patient.

“Sadistic bastard,” Jim gritted out.

“And don’t you forget it. If you show up in my sickbay again within the next month, I’m using you as my next experiment. “

“The love I feel from you is overwhelming,” Jim rolled his eyes but swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had a brief sense of vertigo, which ended when McCoy shoved four hypos into his neck in rapid succession. “The fuck?!”

“Blame your shitty immune system and your propensity to get into trouble.”

Annoyed, Jim didn’t even ask what the word “propensity” meant and settled for rubbing the tender skin. Slowly, Jim started to undress then remembered the Vulcan in the room. “Going to watch me change? I can give you a strip tease if you want?”

Sovik’s lips thinned; however, he did step out of the room. It was a good thing too. The bruises Spock left on his skin were in their last stages of fading, but clearly still visible. The look McCoy gave him as he took off his shirt said enough.

“It’s alright, Bones. Down boy.”

“I didn’t say anything, infant.” The doctor returned to the tricorder readings, trying to ignore his presence.

He shouldn’t have cared and just left well enough alone. The doctor wasn’t prying, just like he promised. Jim should have been satisfied with that. But…dammit he was getting soft  when regarding Bones. “Really. I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

The turned sharply, glaring at him coldly. “Maybe because it’s all of the nerve damage you’ve suffered. Maybe it’s because your body has been loaded up with so many drugs over the years, your pain receptors are practically fried or inactive. Maybe the only reason you feel anything at all is because I’ve been trying to fix the damage since the day we met. And yet, with all my hard work, all I get in return is you impeding my work by getting yourself into some abusive sexual relationship and intentionally finding trouble that can get yourself killed.”

Jim felt his chest tighten, unsure what to say. “It’s not abusive, Bones.”

“I really don’t care about what type of kinky shit you’re apparently into, but you have to realize your body can’t handle it. I mean, Jesus, Jim. Even your sex life is hard on your body. It’s never going to recover.”

“Why do you care so much!” he snapped, unable to take the feeling that was overwhelming him. “You have no obligation to protect me, let alone worry about me. Why do you keep getting so bent out of shape over some slave you don’t even want to sleep with?”

“I don’t know!” The doctor yelled back. After the outburst, the energy drained from the doctor. “As much as you annoy me,” he continued on in a much more subdued tone, “I can’t help but worry. You act like a reckless kid sometimes, and sometimes I just─” Grief overcame the doctor’s features.

“I’m not your little girl, Bones.” Just mentioning the girl made the doctor flinch. In the corner of the doctor’s eyes, just before he turned away, Jim could see unshed tears he tried to hide. “I’m not clueless, and I’m not defenseless. You can’t use me to make up for something you couldn’t control in the first place.”

“You think I’m an idiot? Like I could ever see you like that.” The doctor still wasn’t looking at him. “This world is cruel. Compassion. Love. It’s a weakness that slowly wraps around your heart and destroys you. If not because of the person you pour your heart out to, it’s the people around you that want to see you suffer. Even friendships are just tools to gain power and influence. You’re the same as the others, making strategic friendships to get yourself out of this hellhole we call a ship.” Finally, the doctor turned to him.

“But out of everyone here, you are the only one on this fucking ship who took the time to indulge this country doctor in watching old movies or listen to my complaints without trying to cash in on that friendship. Let’s just say…I feel like I owe you.”

Soft. Sentimental. Weak. Terms Spock had applied to Doctor McCoy in the past. Sure, he had his sadistic moments, but overall, the doctor shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be working for the empire or be a part of Starfleet. He was genuinely … pure. Pure enough to worry about some slave who could do nothing for him in return.

“People like you shouldn’t exist,” Jim whispered. “You would really call me a friend?”

The doctor rubbed the back of his head, messing up his already unkempt hair. “Throwing around terms like that could get you killed.” But he didn’t deny it.

“If you are my friend, would you tell me if there was a way to get those nanos out of me if you could?” Jim’s eyes lowered into something cold yet accusing. “Or tell me if they weren’t there to begin with?” Guilt flashed across the doctor’s face for a half second.

He was putting the doctor in an impossible situation. He knew that, throwing McCoy’s confession back in his face, threatening him with loss of companionship. Then Jim’s face morphed into a smile as if the sinister aura that had surrounded him never happened. “I’m just kidding, Bones. You don’t need to tell me.” Because he knew. The doctor’s face had betrayed enough. The nanos didn’t exist.

Whether McCoy knew he had outed Spock unintentionally or not was not as clear. He seemed relieved he didn’t have to answer the question, further supporting Jim’s certainty. Spock had lied.

“Tomorrow, lets drink. Just you me.” Sliding off the bed, Jim slapped the doctor’s back. “I’ll even let you coddle me and cook me dinner.”

“Cook your own dinner,” he snapped back. Jim’s comment had diffused the tense atmosphere; the doctor’s shoulders relaxing with the familiar banter. “And you better bring the good stuff and not that horse piss they call whiskey from the replicators.”

Jim smiled, glad that the emotional moment was over. Neither of them were comfortable with it. But know he knew the truth. Spock didn’t have as much leverage over him as he had thought. And he found that positively…fascinating.

* * *

Outpost 1 had been destroyed. Along with Outpost 2 and Outpost 7. The damage seemed minimal. In the four days, there had only three attacks which would indicate that there was only a small force if they were waiting so long between attacks, but there was one thing that bothered Spock. Why was there no further details on the attacking vessel? Each base managed to send out a message about being attacked, but no further data on the enemy which would have been a priority if the information was available.

Spock was contemplating this when the door to the bridge swished open. He knew instantly that it was Kirk without turning around. Still, he caught a quick glimpse of the human. He was pale and breathing harder than normal. Pain lingered in the corner of his eyes as he moved, but overall, he portrayed that he was fine. Enough so to fool majority of the humans and aliens around them.

“Sir, we are receiving a transmission from Outpost 4. Request for immediate assistance. They are under fire,” Serik said from the communication station.

“Mr. Sulu, change course to Outpost 4. Maximim warp,” Spock said calmly.

“Aye, sir. ETA, 8 minutes.”

“We are receiving another transmission from Outpost 4. A recorded message. I believe you should view this Captain.”

“Put it on screen.”

A frazzled human male appeared on screen. His large eyes were wide with fear, his skin was smeared with soot and grease and his uniform would indicate he was an engineer. “I, Lieutenant Commander Miller, am now in charge of Outpost 4, due to the untimely demise of the senior officers due to the destruction of deck 5 caused by an unidentified source. It was only a brief second, but we managed to catch a glimpse of our attacker. They do in fact appear to be Romulan. It is only a matter of time before we can no longer fend off their atta─” The transmission cut off.

“Serik, work to get back that transmission. ETA is 3.2 minutes. Red Alert, shields up.”

There was a chorus of confirmation from the crew.

“That was the end of the transmission, Captain. I am unable to establish contact with the outpost.”

Spock leaned forward in his chair. “Are there any other transmissions in the area?”

“No sir.”

Spock briefly wondered if he should put Uhura back in charge of communications. It wasn’t that Serik was an incompetent communications officer when needed, it was just the lieutenant was exceptionally skilled in her field. He was hesitant to do so until he could confirm it was in fact Romulans and not rebels they were dealing with.

“Liar.” It was soft spoken, but Spock’s sensitive hearing had picked it up with ease even over the sound of the alarm blaring throughout the ship.

“Is there something you wish to say, Lieutenant Stiles?” Spock did not spare him a glance, keeping his attention diverted between the officer and the view screen. ETA 58.24 seconds.

“Yeah. Of course, he’s not picking up any sign of the Romulans; he fucking is one. He wouldn’t rat out his own people.”

Now was not the time for racism, Spock thought as they dropped out of warp. Unable to attend to Stiles immediately, he took on the task at hand. “Ensign Kalomi, what do the sensors read?”

“Outpost 4 is completely dead, sir. I detect no survivors amongst the debris.”

“Any sign of the attackers?”

There was a brief pause. “A faint trace of a ship leaving the area and heading towards the Neutral Zone on impulse power.”

“Follow it at a parallel course and keep your distance. Do not engage.”

“Seriously?” Stile spoke up again.

The situation dealt with for the moment, Spock took his first look at the outspoken Lieutenant. He was young, no older than 23, with dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes. “I advise that you do not speak again, Lieutenant.”

“Or what, _Captain_ ,” he sneered. “Them. Both of them are Romulan spies.” He pointed at both Sovik and Serik. “Hell, you’re probably one too. How do we even know you’re Vulcan? Maybe there is no difference between the two, and you little green blooded bastards have been working for the Romulan Empire from the beginning.”

Kirk stepped forward to interfere, but Spock waved him down with his hand, standing from his chair. “I believe I have made a mistake,” Spock said, standing from the captain’s seat.

“Care to repeat that?” Stiles smirked.

“I stated, that I have made a grave error. I should not have allowed the blatant racism to run rampant on this ship for as long as I have.” Spock took off his gloves. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Kirk take a step away from him. “Fear must be maintained to keep order, and I wish to remind everyone there is a reason why the empire has chosen to keep Vulcans as a _lap dog_ , as majority of you call us, and has made an effort to not turn us into an enemy despite our weakened state.”

Tossing his knife to Stiles, who caught it with little trouble, he looked around the bridge. “If any of you wish to attack me at this moment and help Mr. Stiles, please do so.”

Silence met Spock’s reply until an ensign standing beside Ensign Kalomi came rushing at him when his back was turned. Spock dodged the punch, shifting his body to the left, so the punch missed his head. Another person, a security officer this time, jumped in, knife in his hand, ready to take him while he was off balance.

Spock dropped to the floor, kicking out the security officers leg from under him, making him fall. As the officer fell, Spock yanked him forward, making him take the hit from the phaser, Stiles had pulled, then shoved the body forward to trip up Stiles.

Turning his attention to the attacking science officer, Spock grabbed the officer’s knee, bracing it so he could deliver a strong blow to the side, breaking it. The man crumpled in pain, letting Spock put his hands to the floor so he could deliver a sideways heel kick from his awkward position to Stiles’ hand, making him drop the phaser.

Finally able to stand, Spock managed to remove himself from the floor, dodging a knife that swiped at him. It was slow with predictable attack patterns, allowing Spock to easily grab Stiles knife hand. He applied pressure until Stiles was screaming in pain. When Spock let go, Stiles fingers were bent in strange angles and had left an indent on the knife handle.

“Vulcans are three times stronger.” He delivered a precise hit to Stiles’ kidneys, making him crumble to the floor. “Our mental capacities operate with speed and efficiently that humans cannot comprehend.” Spock delivered a swift punch. The sound of cracking ribs could be heard throughout the bridge. “We do not feel, letting logic and facts determine our actions, allowing us to always take the best course of action.” Stiles was barely conscious when Spock pulled him up into a sitting position by his hair. “And finally, Mr. Stiles, the empire values and fears our telepathy, something you will see firsthand.”

Stiles was too weak to protest, but fear still shone in his eyes as Spock placed his right hand over his psi-points. He quickly shifted through the lieutenant’s mind, pushing past weak mental shields aggressively, ignoring the damage it caused in the process. Stiles was not his assassin, nor did he know of who attacked him. Spock released him, leaving the man a drooling mess on the floor.

“Remove them from the bridge.” Spock ordered. “In addition, request the necessary officers to replace them.”

The two remaining security officers glanced at Spock’s hands then hurriedly complied to his wishes.

Going back to his chair, Spock picked up his leather gloves and quickly put them back on. The bridge was still stunned in silence when he sat down in the center chair, unwilling to question him further. Well almost everyone.

Kirk stepped up on the center platform where the captain’s chair sat, standing just behind and to the left of his chair. “So why are you ordering a parallel course?”

“There is much we do not know about the enemy. If we engage in a conflict haphazardly, there is a 73.9 percent chance that we will encounter the same fate as the outposts. Following at this distance at this pace, we will appear as an echo on their sensor, gaining us additional time to devise a suitable countermeasure.” Spock answered. So far, the Romulan vessel was not attacking or exhibiting odd movements.

There was a slight frown on Kirk’s lips, his mind at work in dissecting what Spock had said. He was weak in the subject of astrophysics, and no doubt unable to understand how sensors could show echoes. Perhaps he would explain further another day.

“Mr. Sulu, hand over control to Ensign Riley and meet me in the briefing room along with Mr. Scott.  The meeting will start in exactly 5 minutes.”

Sulu grunted his confirmation while Spock left the bridge to go to the briefing room, Sovik and Kirk behind him.

Why would the Romulans risk war with the Empire now? After the fall of Nero, the Empire had struck hard against the Romulans, crippling their forces immensely after the Romulans had taken advantage of the futuristic ship to push back the Terran Empire the past 25 years. If not for the Klingons’ accidental intervention, the Romulans would have stolen more territory over the past two decades. The Neutral Zone had just been re-established only a year ago, both sides too weak to afford to continue the constant conflicts. So why violate the treaty so soon?

Entering the briefing room, Spock used the terminal to watch the constant updates on the Romulan ship.  Mr. Scott and Mr. Sulu came in with .39 seconds to spare. “Gentlemen,” Spock greeted.

The Scott waved, though aimed at Mr. Kirk rather than himself, and Mr. Sulu took a seat at the other end of the table, leaning against the armrest.

“Both of you have the details gathered on the enemy ship we are currently pursuing towards the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is a delicate issue, and I am willing to listen to possible theories on how to proceed with the situation.”

“Well there is one thing that strikes me a bit odd, Captain.” Mr. Scott spoke up, going through the reports. “It says here that this small Romulan ship destroyed Outpost 4, but I know for a fact that that particular outpost was lined with rodinium. It is the hardest metal ever created, yet according to reports, it was ripped through like butter on a summer day. No weapon that we know of can possible do that with ease. Not by one ship anyway.”

“Are you inferring that they have a new weapon, Mr. Scott.”

“Aye, sir. If we take a direct hit, you can kiss your ass goodbye.”

“Then we should attack first,” Sulu jumped in. “While we still hold some element of surprise. Right now, they are on the Empire’s territory. We can’t be faulted when they broke the treaty first.”

Spock was silent carefully considering his options. “Mr. Scott, do you have any idea as to why they have not gone to warp yet?”

“My best opinion, sir, is that they can’t with that weapon.  They either can’t use it in warp or it draws too much energy away from the warp core, making them unable to achieve warp.”

Then it will take time for them to reach the Neutral Zone. At warp one they could have reached the zone in 1.43 minutes. Instead, they had enough time to hold a strategy meeting.  “We will attack them before they go into the Neutral Zone. If possible, I want to capture at least one crewmember alive to question him on their motives, keep that in mind Mr. Sulu when choosing your targets.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Dismissed.”

Scotty hurried back to his engines while the Security Chief made his way back to the bridge more leisurely. Spock stayed behind a moment to consider his actions on the bridge earlier. The empire ran on fear. The crew had started to lose fear of him when Pike chose to belittle him in front of the crew the last weeks of his life. His actions were necessary, but he did not like going into humans’ minds. He did not like the after impressions it left. The human mind repulsed him as well as his own actions. Vulcan telepathy was not meant for such destruction.

“You’re going to miss your chance to attack if you keep daydreaming,” Kirk’s voice rung through the air. Slowly looking up, he saw the human, standing near the exit, waiting for him. Now was not a time to reflect. It was time for action.

Spock went back to the bridge, everyone already at battle stations and awaiting orders.

“Captain, the ship has slightly change course. It’s heading into the comet’s tail,” Kalomi spoke up.

Had the ship notice them? He took his seat, and ordered Sulu to follow them. At his command, Kirk inhaled sharply, lips parted as if to say something then pursed his lips to swallow his words.

“If you have something to say, Mr. Kirk, say them now.”

A moment of startled clarity that Spock was asking his opinion, followed by a determined look on his human’s face, taking a step closer to the chair. “The interference from the comet’s tail, it will temporarily mess up the scanners, right? If you jump ahead of them, you can intercept them and attack.”

A good strategy indeed. “Mr. Sulu, the moment they enter the comet’s tail, jump ahead and intercept the ship on the other side.”

Spock heard the confirmation, his eyes never leaving the screen. The moment the ship disappeared, he gave the order. The ship maneuvered to cut off the Romulan ship. The problem was, the ship wasn’t there.

“Captain, it appears, they doubled back in attempt to get behind us. We just missed each other.”

If they had followed into the comet’s tail, the Romulans would have had the upper hand. “Target phasers on the Romulan ship, strengthen shields on stern.” Spock said calmly.

“Phasers locked, Captain.”

“Romulan vessel charging weapons.”

Spock gave the order. “Fire.”

“Firing phasers.”

“Romulans has shot off their weapon.”

“Evasive maneuvers.”

“Phaser fire has made contact with the Romulan ship!”

“Unable to dodge Romulan fire. Brace for─”

The ship shook violently from the impact, causing Spock to almost fall out of his chair. A few other crew members were not so lucky.

“Captain! Report from engineering. Phaser circuits have fried from the hit!”

“Shields at 22 percent.”

“Another shot is heading right for us.”

“Full astern, Mr. Sulu,” Spock ordered.

“Full astern, Captain.”

The ship jerked as the order was carried out.

“Captain, the attack… its weakening sir. It appears to have limited range before it begins to dissipate.”

The ship shook from the impact, but as they were still alive, Ms. Kalomi’s assessment had to have been correct. The attack had weakened greatly.

“Captain, they are retreating into the Neutral Zone. Should we pursue?”

Spock was silent, quickly calculating his options. All eyes were on him when he said, “Pursue, Mr. Sulu.”

 A mixture of approval and disapproval were expressed amongst the crew. They were risking war following them into the zone. Spock however, did not have much of a choice. The empire would not accept letting them get away after multiple attacks.

“Sir, they are scattering debris as decoys. I  . . . I lost them.”

Spock’s lips thinned at the news, unable to contain the thought that he would not have done so if he had been manning the science station himself. What course of action to take now? The ship couldn’t have gotten far under impulse power, but if they searched blindly, they could be lured in and attacked by the unknown device again.

“Shut the ship down,” Kirk whispered. It was soft and Spock was not even certain that Kirk had meant to say it aloud, but he relayed the order without hesitation, instantly catching onto what Kirk was thinking.

“Make the ship go dark, Mr. Sulu.”

The chief security officer, swiveled in his chair, wide eyed. “You can’t be serious.”

“That’s an order.” Spock’s voice kept its even tones, unfazed by the human’s questioning. If Sulu didn’t comply to his order, he’d replace him.

Sulu bristled but completed his duty. The lights, sirens, shields, everything but the basic essentials to survive and a single scanner, turned off. “We will wait for them to give away their position first.”  Spock announced to the bridge. “I suggest you prepare yourselves for an extensive wait and remain diligent.”

* * *

Waiting games were not the humans strong suit. The mental drain of constant focus became apparent after the third hour. Sensing no end in sight, Spock allowed the crew rotate, turning the red alert to yellow, so some could sleep, eat, and relieve themselves. He also let some repairs to be done that could be completed without majority of the ship’s sensors and equipment. Mr. Scott almost seemed delighted at the challenge even asking if Kirk could join him in the lower levels to help.

Spock never left the bridge, keeping his eye on the view screen as well as directing some of the repairs on the bridge consoles.

Spock caught Kirk tripping while he worked under a console, trying to enhance the scanners to pinpoint the Romulan vessel in the off chance that they were not willing to reveal themselves first. Sitting up, he took a good look at his human guard.

Kirk’s knees were shaking, his face pale even under the emergency lighting, and his face was drawn from exhaustion. He had been unnaturally quiet the entire time as well. “Mr. Kirk,” he heard himself say against his will.

Kirk turned his eyes towards him, looking hesitant.

“If you would assist me.” Spock disappeared back under the console. His sensitive hearing picked up movement from Kirk, taking slow steps in his direction until finally sitting beside the tool box Spock had been using. “You have been unnaturally quiet, Mr. Kirk. I can only assume that you are plotting something against me.”

A breath of nothing, then a quiet chuckle. “Don’t flatter yourself. My every thought isn’t about you, you know.”

“Please pass me the soldering iron.” Jim passed him the object, careful to avoid his hands. Neither of them talked for a long while with just the sound of Spock’s work between them.

“So you’re not going to punish me for my screw up?” Kirk’s words were surprisingly hesitant. Something he didn’t equate to the young man.

“To what are you referring?” he asked in return.

“Don’t play dumb, it’s not attractive on you,” he growled, sounding irritated. “The comet thing I suggested. If I hadn’t suggested it, maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in this stalemate.”

“As I had chosen to listen to your advice, the fault would fall to me as captain for listening to it. In addition, there was no ‘screw up’ as you put it. If we had not tried to intercept the Romulan vessel when we did, then we would have been caught unaware and have been destroyed. In essence, your advice was the correct option, and I am not inclined to punish efficient and successful work. I also do not regret taking this course of action either. During this time, we have been able to make extensive repairs.”

Kirk chuckled, handing him a screwdriver before Spock could even ask for it. “Keep giving me compliments, and I might get a bigger head.”

“That would be an interesting phenomenon to see as I was unaware it could increase any further in size.” The comment got a legitimate laugh from the human.

After another wave of silence, Spock finally said, “It has been 9 hours and 47 minutes. You may leave to retrieve the required nourishment and rest. You have already been standing for 11.6 hours, and I have received three reminders from the doctor about your need to rest.”

“He’s just mother-henning. I can wait until we beat some more Romulan ass.”

Spock pulled out from under the console to show him a doubtful eyebrow quirk. “Yeoman Rand, please retrieve a black coffee with three sugars and two creams for Mr. Kirk.”

The yeoman frowned at being ordered around. “Yes, Captain.”

Just as the doors closed behind her, a loud alarm from the navigator control panel rang out. It was deafening on the previously quiet bridge, making some wince. The engineer that had been working on the panel, pulled at the wire as quickly as he could; however, the damage was still done.

Spock reconnected the scanners and went to the captain’s chair, already anticipating the attack. Ensign Kalomi went back to the science station, relaying information.

“Sir, the Romulans are moving.”

“Bring the systems back online, prepare to fire phaser barrage,” Spock said.

“Phasers back online. Ready to fire on your command.”

“Fi-“

“Engineering to bridge!” the voice cut through Spock’s concentration. Flipping the switch, Spock acknowledged. “Captain, do not fire phasers! I repeat do not fire phasers!” Mr. Scott’s voice sounded frantic. “We just found a coolant leak. If you fire those phasers, we’ll be blown half way across the galaxy.”

“Approximate time of repair Mr. Scott?” Spock asked.

“Romulan ship retreating, Captain, should we give chase?” Sulu asked.

“Give me a minute,” the engineer replied frantically.

Spock glanced at Kirk, their eyes meeting. Jim subtly shook his head no.

“No, keep everything offline. Keep pretending the ship is dead, let it drift. Lure the ship to us.”

“Aye, sir.”

Spock waited. This was a gamble, something he would never have contemplated in the past. Not before the countless chess games he played with Kirk the past month.

“Still retreating Captain,” Kalomi said.

Spock waited. They were Romulans, they could not leave them if there was an opportunity. It would defy their duty as officers of the Romulan Empire if that was who they are. They would have to come to finish them off.

“They’re coming, Captain. They’re changing course and heading this way.”

“Mr. Scott, is the phaser repair completed?”

 “Give me a second more…yes!”

“Mr. Sulu, phaser barrage on the enemy, now.”

With a malicious smirk, Sulu followed the order, the ship jumping to life and taking aim and firing under Sulu’s skilled hands in mere seconds.

The Romulan ship took heavy damage, most importantly, destroying the deadly weapon that had been about to fire.

“Captain, there is a hail from the Romulan ship,” Serik called out.

“Put it on screen.”

A vision of a ship’s bridge in flames and a single Romulan still sitting in the captain’s seat greeted them. He wore the regulation military uniform, and despite the chaos around him, he looked eerily calm as he regarded his opponent.

“A Vulcan captain?” He said mildly surprised. “I was wondering who it was that has bested me. Your wit is unparalleled.”

“You put up a commendable fight, Commander.” The Romulan showed slight surprise that Spock had recognized his rank from his uniform. “I am willing to exchange the rescue of your ship’s crew for your data system information and your death.”

The Romulan’s lips cracked a smile. “I’m afraid, I must decline. We knew the risks when we left to complete our mission. We will die here and now, along with our empire’s secrets.”

“Very well. Allow us to hasten your demise.”

“No need.” The Romulan commander tilted his head. “The self-destruct is already activated. I must say captain, that I feel regret in meeting you this way. You and I are of a kind. In a different reality, I could have called you friend.” The hail cut and a bright light filled the view screen of the self-destruction of the opposing ship.

Spock couldn’t help but look at Kirk. The Romulan did not know the truth, that his words were meant for another; for the human who had guided his hand for nearly the entire battle. He had just relayed the orders.

Calling for a bridge rotation, people left the bridge one by one as their replacements showed up. Spock had ordered Kirk to leave before him, Serik taking his place the moment Uhura came to replace him.

“You have been wanting to ask a question Serik,” Spock said, entering the turbolift with his two guards. “What is it you wish to know?”

“I noticed how often you referred to Kirk on the bridge captain. Given his lack of Starfleet training and general education, I failed to see the logic in asking for his opinion.”

Spock did not answer, instead handing Serik his personal PADD after pulling up a file. Serik read over the file, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “I have never seen such scores before.”

“I retested him when I realized that he knew certain concepts without knowing the proper name for them. Once the concepts were explained properly to him, his test scores changed drastically. His literary, communication, and science skills are low due to lack of formal education. The specifics of basic topics such as electromagnetivity and nuclear collision is lost on him, but his engineering capability through experience alone places him as one of the top engineering minds on the ship. From what I gather, he did a lot of illegal engineering work to survive before his capture. He would not be able to explain why it works scientifically, but he is very skilled with numbers and able to compute difficult mathematical equations. However, his engineering skill is incomparable to his tactical score. He is no doubt meant for a command position if were to become a Starfleet officer. Playing chess against him, even I admit that his strategies are often better than mine. His current win to loss ratio is 3:5.”

Serik was still staring at the information as if it were written in a foreign language rather than standard. “It would explain why he is so resourceful, but it also makes him a serious threat should he turn against us.”

“I have already taken that scenario under consideration. While it is too dangerous to release him, giving him a place to be heard and considered seriously seems to pacify him. I have sensed no malicious intent since I employed this strategy.”

Serik handed the PADD back to Spock. “I urge you to be careful, Captain. I trust in your decisions, but you have also been distracted as of late.”

“I have found you a bondmate.” It was an abrupt change in topic, everyone in the lift knew this, but it did have the desired effect, giving its importance.

All three of them stepped off on deck 5, and Spock turned to Serik. “T’Pau has considered my request and has agreed.”

Serik’s shoulders squared, a perfect mask in place as if he was digging his heels in for a battle to come. “And have you been found a replacement bondmate, nu’ri-trensu?”

“I have not, but I am not in need of one as you are.”

“There is already a lack of females. Tainted blood does not take priority over royal.”

“If you are tainted, then so am I. You require no medical assistance to reproduce unlike I, so if the intended had been female, you would be more logical option. The intended they had chosen for me, however, is male, so there is no risk of spreading our biological short comings to begin with. Furthermore, I do not require a telepathic bondmate as you do.”

“Even if he is male, a Vulcan bondmate will increase your status among our people compared to an outsider.”

“You relinquished the right to choose when you decided on prosthetic hands. You are in need of a telepathic bondmate for you to survive your time. In addition, due to my human blood, I may be spared from that particular Vulcan infliction. If giving you the bondmate chosen for me will solve the problem, then there is no logical reason for you to refuse.”

He had cornered Serik with logic, and the older Vulcan knew it. Serik could not say another word to refuse as Spock was his captain and his young master.

“Captain,” Sovik said stepping forward. “I shall take responsibility for my brother and his time. I will find someone for him to mate with, but do not relinquish your prospective bondmate with such ease. It has taken T’Pau 24.3 years to find someone willing to become your mate. It will not be simple to find another, especially with you being absent from New Vulcan.”

Spock considered, keeping his gaze on Serik. “You have a year, Sovik. If he is not bonded by then, I will relinquish my mate to him.”

Serik and Sovik bowed. “Of course, Captain.”

“Serik, you may retire to your quarters for mediation.” Serik nodded and left, leaving Sovik behind.

“You intend to see Kirk,” Sovik stated.

“You can be released from duty as well if you like. Kirk will be with me.”

“I am concerned you are engaging this habit too often.”

“It is not your place to say, is it, Lieutenant Sovik?” Sovik remained silent. “You may guard or you may leave as well. The decision is yours.”

Sovik didn’t divert his path, making his decision known in his actions rather than words. Spock was half way down the hall, when he was stopped by a man and a woman, the woman wearing blue and the man in red. Both appeared unarmed and had approached from the front, so Sovik didn’t intervene, though his hand was on his phaser.

“Captain,” the woman said with a small blush on her cheeks. “We have a favor to ask,” the man and woman looked at each other. The man’s cheeks were also flushed, looking a bit bashful as he watched the woman.

The man finally broke his gaze away from her to look at Spock. His chest puffed out in an attempt to look more confident than he was, foiled by his nervous gaze when he met Spock’s eyes. “My name is Robert Tomlinson, and she is Angela Martine. I’m sure this is unusual to be asked this, but…” he tampered off, second guessing whether he should ask or not.

“We wanted to ask if you would enact your right as captain to wed us,” the woman named Angela finished.

Spock was genuinely surprised, unable to hide it when his eyebrows shot up. While the captain had the power to perform marriages, it was rarely done in Starfleet. It was basically announcing that you had someone precious to you, someone you’d do anything for. That wasn’t even mentioning that such relationships rarely lasted on this ship, everyone too engrossed in their own gains and ambitions. “I suppose I do not need to tell you the cons of what this action can cause?”

The man nodded. “We thought real careful about it, and well,” he looked at the woman again as if he could not keep his eyes off here. Gently, he took her hand in his. “We want this. More than anything.”

“Very well. Tomorrow evening then, in my office. Please bring your own witness.”

“Thank you, Captain!” they exclaimed, happiness overflowing on their faces and leaving hand in hand.

“Most illogical,” Spock found himself saying. Human marriages were not a necessity. They never were. There were no physical or mental repercussion if they choose to remain single and just procreated when they deemed fit. What point was there to endanger one’s life for another by such a binding act when it could be avoided?

Spock entered Jim’s quarters with his override. Sovik took position several doors down to create the illusion Spock was in a separate room.

Kirk looked up, a towel around his waist, revealing the thin pink line where the knife wound had been and the ugly dark brown bruise where his broken ribs were. He did feel a small flush of satisfaction when the Vulcan saw the marks he himself had left on the slave.

“Really can’t help yourself can you,” Jim took a step away as casually as possible, but it was unnatural. Kirk wasn’t even looking at him.

“Given the day’s events, I predicted you would feel as unsatisfied as I am.” Jim glanced down at Spock’s gloves, and a thought occurred to Spock. “Are you afraid of me, Mr. Kirk?”

“Not really you,” he responded vaguely.

“No,” Spock agreed. “Just my telepathy.” Kirk would never admit to weakness, Spock knew that, but his faux bravery could not cover the nervous glances at the gloves. “I assure you Mr. Kirk, I have no interest in your mind or your thoughts. As long as you give me no reason to, I will never remove my gloves.”

“I wasn’t worried you would,” he lied, turning his back to Spock. Spock’s eyes racked over his body, arousal flaring up in his own.

With two long strides, he was pressed against Kirk’s back, his hands still behind his back as he leaned forward. “Should we discontinue our sexual congress?” At this close proximity, he could feel the emotions vibrating off of Kirk’s naked skin. Arousal. Lust. Emotions he had encountered frequently with Kirk since they started this game of theirs. The hesitation however was new, and Spock did not believe it was due to his telepathy. Not all of it anyway.  “Why do you hesitate?” Spock asked with pure curiosity, but his breath on Kirk’s ear made the human shiver most pleasantly with need.

Kirk’s cheeks turned a most interestingly shade of pink as he turned his head away. Without warning Kirk tried to gut him, but Spock was faster, locking Kirk’s arm to his side. “Don’t think just because I humored you once and acted all obedient you can order me around.”

Spock tilted his head. “I would not have considered otherwise.” Spock’s free hand raked down Jim’s abs. With a slight tug at the towel, it fell to Kirk’s ankles. “If you wish for me to cease, then all you need to do is say so.” He stroked, the human’s straining erection with a single finger. His touch was that of a feather, barely touching. Enough to know it was there, but not enough to satisfy.

Kirk’s free arm shot up to use the wall for support as his knees weakened under Spock’s teasing touch. “Jesus," he hissed. "I really hate you. Fucking bastard.”

“I guarantee you, that I do not hold you in close regard either.”

With a snort, Kirk stopped resisting, and Spock let his arm go. “Now then,” Spock whispered, so the human had to strain to hear. “Shall we see what other deity you will call for this time?"

* * *

Jim lay on his bed, sighing as Spock released his arms from the make shift hand cuffs. While he didn’t mind being tied up, it was hard on his shoulders. The precaution was necessary on Spock’s behalf, but a small part of Jim wanted to try some other things. Too bad he wanted the sex more than risk angering Spock. It only vaguely occurred to him that Janice Lester would be more than willing. Given the two, Jim still wanted Spock a while longer.

He waited for the sound of the door to open, when Spock would leave without a word and head back to his quarters. His eyes were close, head resting on his forearms drifting off. With his body still recovering and the long shift, he wasn’t so keen on moving quite yet. Cleaning himself could wait. He didn’t expect a cool the touch of leather digging into his shoulders, releasing the tension in his muscles to ease the pain the position had caused. When the hands reached a knot in the center of his back, a long drawn out moan escaped him against his will.

“Fuck. That’s almost as good as sex,” he drawled, focusing on the way those fingers worked his body skillfully, like a musician.

“As you have just been released from sickbay, it is imperative that you have proper blood flow throughout your body to speed recovery.”

Kirk blinked his eyes open lazily. Did Spock just speak to him? After sex? “Bones needs to mind his own business.” He groaned again as Spock worked out another knot in his muscles. “But then again, if that means I get free, full body massages, I might let him.”

“I do not understand why you insist in calling him by such an illogical pseudonym.”

Kirk’s lips twitched. “I’m going to assume you’re talking about his nickname.” Jim rolled over to meet Spock’s eyes. “I had a pet dog once, a stray I found in the junkyard. He was grouchy and moody and rough around the edges. He would always growl whenever I got near him, but everyday he’d come wait for me in front of my house, walk to my job, watch over me from afar, then walk me home. He never allowed me to pet him, but occasionally, he’d come by and give me food that he found. It was like he was trying to take care of me. Because the mutt was so skinny, I named him Bones.”

“The similarities between your childhood pet and the doctor are quite astounding.”

Jim laughed though it hurt to do so. “Yeah. I thought so too. Just popped into my head when I met him. It fit so I kept using it.”

Spock picked up a rag and started to clean Jim’s body. “How did your canine companion meet its end?”

Jim closed his eyes. “Beaten to death by some bored Tellerites passing by.”

“I too had a childhood companion. A sehlat. One of the last to survive the destruction of Vulcan.”

“Yeah?” Jim asked, his voice lethargic. Spock’s hands really felt good on his body. It wasn’t helping that sleep was threatening to pull him under any moment. His curiosity was the only thing keeping him awake. “What happened?”

“He was killed protecting me from a poisonous predator on New Vulcan. I was forced to put him down else he would have suffered needlessly.”

Jim understood. He had felt the same pain when Bones died. A moment in his life when he realized it did not pay to get attached to anything. They would always leave you. It was better to be alone than to suffer through that loss over and over again.

Spock’s hands left him, and he almost wanted to whine at that. Spock had stayed longer than he would have normally anyway, he reminded himself.

“Have a peaceful resting period Mr. Kirk,” he heard Spock say as the door opened.

He was already drifting when he replied, “Just call me, Jim.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are my life blood. Keep me alive guys.
> 
>  
> 
> The mission from this chapter is "Balance of Terror" from TOS. I totally meant to make a joke about the Romulan Commander looking like Sarek since they were played by the same actor in TOS, but I just didn't get the chance to.


	20. Until Death Do Us Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super tired, but I've been actively getting these chapters out every 10 days which is pretty good for me. I haven't done this since the end of Cardinal Rule. I apologize for the grammar mistakes in the last chapter. Just to be clear, there is no m-preg in this universe. I realized after someone commented that it does kind of sound like it was possible due to bad phrasing from Spock. It is now fixed.

One of the rules had finally been broken. After that night, Spock stayed every night following, engaging in small talk with him, playing chess with him. Jim was normally still naked during these times, too sated and relaxed to bother moving much. Sometimes his laziness paid off and Spock would clean his body and retrieve food for him. Once, he even gave him another full body massage. Damn Spock’s hands were addicting. If Jim could figure out how to convince Spock to always give him a massage, he would. It was simultaneously arousing and relaxing.

So that’s how he spent the next few nights, talking to Spock in the nude, lounging on his bed as they talked about insignificant things like philosophy, books, or battle tactics over chess. There was one night when Jim asked Spock about the latest astrophysics journal out of curiosity, wondering if the Vulcan’s reaction was as Uhura described it. Maybe it was just him, but he swore Spock became excited on the topic as he explained the journal. The Vulcan tried his hardest to simplify it so Jim could understand but was too engrossed in the finer details to stick to it, going on even though he knew the human had no idea what he was talking about.

Jim smiled a bit at the memory. He had begun reading elementary level science textbooks recently. A far cry from Spock’s numerous PhDs in the sciences, but it was a side of Spock he had never seen. Spock missed being a science officer. He could tell.

“What’s got you smilin’ over there, Jim? It’s been ages since you decide to come and visit, yet you’re just sitting there looking like you caught ten canaries.”

Jim’s smile grew, taking on a perverted edge. “Sorry, I was reminiscing on last night.”

Scotty rolled his eyes, disappearing into a Jefferies’ tube. “Ever since you started sleeping with ‘im, I haven’t seen you at all. Thought you’d get bored after the first week.”

“What can I say,” Jim drawled leaning back against the bulkhead. “He’s real good in bed.”

“I still can’t imagine it. If you didn’t tell me yourself, I’d think he’d be less satisfyin’ than getting your booster shots.”

“Believe it. Best sex I ever had, and he learns quickly too. He gives the best hand jobs,” Jim laughed. “It’s like training my own personal pleasure machine.”

“Sounds like you’re training the captain well.” Scotty may have believed Jim had more control in their sex life than he really did, but it wasn’t like Jim was going to correct him on it. “You sure you’re not getting too attached, laddy? All you’ve been talking about since you got here is about the captain. And not condescendingly either.”

“Please Scotty, don’t insult me. He’s just a good lay. If a better opportunity comes strolling along, preferably a long-legged woman with a great set of breasts, I’d drop him in a heartbeat.”

Scotty popped his head out long enough to send Jim a look, one that made the younger man grow irritated. “So,” Jim drew out, changing the subject. “What did you want me to do?”

Jim forced himself to stop talking about Spock as he worked. It was a nice change of pace to finally work with his hands. He should visit Scotty more often as the engineering knowledge he gained from Scotty was nearly irreplaceable. The man was a genius. And with this way, he didn’t have to get the information from a textbook. He already had too much to read between Spock’s required reading, his science books, Starfleet regulations, Vulcan, and basic human history. He was getting faster at reading, but he was sacrificing a lot of sleep to make up for the hours he spent with Spock at night.

As he left engineering, he was prioritizing what he should read first. Starfleet regulations was a must. It was the shortest but most tedious and difficult to read out of the group. It allowed him to know what the officers could and could not do on top of fleshing out the inner workings of the ship that he did not get to see. Vulcan was probably next. It gave him a leg up on Spock and the troublesome duo. Should he continue the science book next or Spock’s required reading?

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the woman walking up to him until she pushed him against the wall.

About to retaliate, he stopped when he realized who it was; her hand massaging his crotch, stirring his interest. “Nice to see you too, Janice.”

“You know you like it,” she purred, standing on her toes to whisper into his ear. “I’m ready to install it in your room. I managed to get the parts I needed.”

“That’s great,” he whispered back, wrapping an arm around her thin waist and pulling her closer. “Now we can rule the world.”

She smiled. A slender hand touched his cheek, drawing his face closer to hers. “First, we can get rid of that annoying Scotsman in engineering,” she brushed her lips against his in a teasing manner. “Then those filthy Vulcans.” She smiled. “Or maybe just the bodyguards. We could keep the captain. I know several who would want a piece of that ass, both literally and figuratively. We could auction him off and get quite a few credits.”

“Especially if we make him into the ship’s whore. How devious of you.” Jim’s voice seemed amused as his grip around her waist tightened. “Aiming for the captain’s seat, are you?”

“A seat that’s rightfully mine,” she nibbled on his lip. “I’ll make you my first officer.”

“Sounds like fun.” He closed the distance between them, mashing his lips against hers. She moaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly.

They barely got any further when the sound of a clearing throat, distracted them. Jim’s eyes darted to the side to see Sovik staring at them, perfect posture and blank faced, but somehow disapproving.

Slowly, Jim released the woman’s waist as she dropped her arms as well. “Why, Sovik, strange to see you in this neck of engineering.” Janice sauntered away as Jim crossed his arms and smirked at the Vulcan who was not amused. “I hope you didn’t take to stalking me. This is the second time you’ve interrupted something.”

“I wish for you to desist your association with Ms. Lester,” Sovik said.

“And why should I do that? Are you in love with her or something?” Jim’s smirk took on a more feral edge. “Or is it me you’re in love with?”

The Vulcan’s eyes narrowed in anger. Had he been right? “I insist,” he said in a cold voice, “that you cease your association with that woman. I will not ignore your transgressions a third time.”

“I think,” Jim pushed himself off the wall, “that who I associate with is none of your business.” He walked towards Sovik. “And if you want a shot at me, grow a pair of tits and maybe I’ll think about it,” he winked.

He shouldered pass Sovik, leaving the Vulcan to stand in the hallway by himself. If he hadn’t pissed off the Vulcan, he had now. He didn’t have sparring with Sovik for another week, but Jim didn’t want to think about how Sovik would retaliate. That was a future problem. Today, he would just enjoy a game of poker with Farrell and the gang.

* * *

Starfleet Headquarters had finally gotten back to him about the Romulan attack on the outposts. The situation was probably the best he could hope for. The empire did not trust Vulcans and having Romulans attack did not help their views either. Him defeating the Romulan commander was bittersweet. While some admirals thought it was proof of his loyalty and usefulness, others were skeptical and believed he was in league with them, having helped plan the attack.

It was unfortunate, but it was the doubtful admirals who had given him the next list of orders. A large list at that. Scanning over the contents, he mentally calculated how he would handle it. For a human, it would be impossible. As a Vulcan, it was barely within the possibility of achievable as long as additional tasks were not piled on. Any and all extra activities would have to be cut from his schedule, including his nights with Kirk.

 Checking his messages, he received word from Mr. Chekov that the new firewall had been uploaded and ready for testing, giving another task for Spock to accomplish. Setting up the appropriate computer, he began trying to hack into the ship’s mainframe.

There was the problem with the rebels he had yet to consider as well. Sybok may have appeared as Romulan due to his emotional behavior, but the truth still remained that he was Vulcan, thus the truth of Sybok’s heritage could be revealed at any time to the empire. A truth that could lead to the eradication of the Vulcan people. Sybok must be taken care of. The trick was finding him.

Spock tried going through the back door in the security system only to discover it had activated an automatic tracking program, and a fast one at that. He would be getting a call from security soon to inform him of the breach though he was certain Mr. Checkov had informed them of his attempt. Sure enough, seconds later, his comm rang to inform him. Satisfied, Spock shut down the computer, planning a second attempt for tomorrow evening.

As his mind worked on setting up his new schedule, he noticed that majority of his free time or quiet work hours was spent with Kirk: talking, teaching, playing chess, engaging in intercourse, all which had to be put aside for the foreseeable future. Not that Kirk would care, Spock thought. He was always complaining about being overworked. Kirk might even enjoy the extra free time away from him. A frown pulled at the Vulcan’s lips. And if the human found another to copulate with while he was busy?

Spock slammed the door of questions that question insinuated. Kirk was not important, and he could not afford to dwell on him. He had work to do.

Drafting a quick message to Ensign Chekov to inform him that the firewall had passed the first test, he headed out to meet Lieutenant Uhura as promised. The chess game would be over in approximately ten minutes if he did not drag it out as he had done the times before. He could spare ten minutes to foster a better relationship with her.

Serik joined him outside his room at which Spock nodded his greeting, setting out to the lieutenant’s quarters on deck 4. He pondered whether he should let Serik check the room first as he pressed the doorbell, signaling his arrival. While it was unlikely that the lieutenant was his unknown assassin, there was always the possibility that she was. She had exhibited odd behavior towards him for the past sixty-six days, starting with her clumsy assault in the gym.

Her voice called sweetly for him to enter. With 2.3 seconds of hesitation, Spock did so. The room was dimly lit, the temperature higher than what most humans would consider comfortable, and the lieutenant was nowhere to be seen. He took two more steps into the room, looking around for possible threats and away from the door’s sensor. The door closed behind him with a soft whoosh.

Spock didn’t call for her. She was present as she had responded mere seconds ago. So he looked for the chess board they were going to use, only to find there was none. His brow furrowed.

“Looking for someone?” Uhura came out of the fresher, wearing a short, white, silk robe that stopped midthigh. Her hair flowed freely for the first time outside the normally ponytail she had it in.

Spock looked at her. Then he blinked. “I was unaware you were still getting dressed. I shall wait outside until you have finished.”

“You can’t be that clueless, Captain,” she walked up to him, noting how stiff Spock became at her approach. “A young woman asking you to come to her quarters alone at night and then comes out of the fresher dressed like this?” She gestured to herself, a smile playing on her lips. “I think it’s quite obvious I intended to dress this way.”

Another slow blink. “As you wish. If you would set up the chess board, we can start the game.”

It was Uhura’s turn to blink though hers was more in disbelief. “I think you misunderstand, Captain Spock. I didn’t invite you here for chess.”

Spock’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I do not understand. You had requested that I come to your quarters to finish our game started in sick bay.”

She laughed though there was a touch of hysterics with each breath. “You really can’t be this clueless,” she muttered under her breath, unknowing that Spock could hear every word. Louder she said, “When a human female invites you to their quarters like I did, it is most likely they are looking for sex.”

Spock’s mouth opened then closed. Then opened again. “I do not understand how asking for chess is the same as asking to engage in coitus.”

The lieutenant’s mouth worked soundlessly, unsure how to respond to such a response. “Surely, I can’t be the first person to proposition you. It’s not like you’re a virgin.” At Spock’s silence, her eyes widened. “Oh my god,” she said with disbelief. “You are?”

“My sexual exploits are none of your concern, Lieutenant,” Spock replied stiffly. “If we are not going to play chess, I will be excusing myself. I have many other duties that require my attention.”

She seemed too stunned to protest. Honestly, whether he was a virgin or not should not have been an issue. While it was true he was not, most Vulcans would remain so until their Pon Farr. He should not be held to the Human standard of engaging in the practice so young.

Slightly annoyed at the event and robbing him of what was to be his only chance at a relaxing game he turned his thoughts to the more positive outcome. He would have an additional 8 minutes than he predicted to add to his schedule. Steadying his shields, he headed to the lab, barely registering Serik’s questioning look. “Will you join me tonight?” he asked Serik. The other Vulcan nodded at Spock’s request.

He would put this recent incident away from the forefront of his thoughts, and focus on the tasks at hand. He would deal with the lieutenant and her odd intentions at a later date.

* * *

It had been quite a while since he had the opportunity to drink with Bones. For a reason Bones wouldn’t divulge no matter how much Jim bugged him, the old country doctor wanted to go to the ship’s bar. It was a rather small section of the ship. There was a bar that seated six, two square tables that seated four, and four round tables that seated two. Jim figured it was small to discourage large gatherings. A bunch of drunk and ambitious officers that just so happened to be armed was not a good idea. There also was a check for each officer who came in. There had to be at least 8 hours between the time they started drinking and their next shift and were kicked out if there were five hours left until the start of a new shift.

McCoy was on his eighth glass of brandy already within the short half hour they were there, not including the glasses Jim took after McCoy took a sip from it first. McCoy didn’t say anything about Jim never ordering his own glasses to drink from. Jim did have to admit, the alcohol at the bar, though costly, was pretty good. It went down smoothly and there was a wide selection to choose from.

The doctor was teetering in his seat as he sighed into his drink. “Seriously, Jim, she was a beauty. Big blue eyes and a giggle that could make a Vulcan’s heart melt,” he slurred heavily.

“I heard you, Bones.” Jim said, paying for the two drinks he stole from McCoy. He only talked about Joanna when he was just about to pass out. Jim wasn’t fond of kids, but he wasn’t going to ruin his friend’s reminiscing after being an ass to him in sickbay several days ago. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“One mer,” he said about to order another, but Jim told the bartender no and fished out McCoy’s ID badge to pay for the drinks.

“Come on old man, you have work tomorrow. Get your ass to bed.”

Thankfully, the doctor could still walk on his own. Not steadily, but it was good enough. Jim had thought they would have spent a bit longer drinking, but given the rate McCoy had indulged, he wasn't surprised the evening ended quickly.

McCoy stumbled on, unaware of his surrounding or the tricorder he left on the barstool beside them, leaving Jim to go back for it. As he did, Jim noticed a familiar figure sitting at one of the two person tables in the back by herself with a rather angry look, scaring away any person who attempted to hit on her. Naturally, it was Jim’s duty to annoy her further. Bones would be okay on his own. Probably.

“Judging by the sour look on your face, I’d say either Sulu tried hitting on you again, or you failed to get a very handsome, blond haired, blue-eyed slave into bed with you.”

“I really hope that wasn’t your attempt at getting me to sleep with you,” Uhura barely looked up from her glass of Andronian ale as Jim slipped into the seat across from her.

“Of course it was. You’re an attractive, intelligent, dangerous woman. You’re like sex on very perfect and slender legs.”

Jim had thought his sexist comment would have either make her eyes take on a hint of amusement or give him a sharp kick to the shin in offense. Instead, her scowl deepened, and she took a long sip from her glass. “Mind telling the captain that?”

“Ah, Spock trouble,” his smirked, tapping his finger on the table. “Let me guess, he turned you down.”

“I wish that was it.” She knocked back the entire glass. “I invited him to my room with the metaphor of chess, and even after I come out in a skimpy robe, he still expected us to play chess. I mean, how oblivious can he be?” she asked outraged.

Jim snorted. It was Spock. Even he knew Spock would go expecting a game of chess. It was his favorite pastime minus the chance to conduct a new experiment. However, he still couldn’t believe Spock would go to her room alone. Irritation welled up in his chest, and his next words came out a bit forced. “Why do you keep chasing him then? He doesn’t seem worth the trouble.”

Uhura took a moment to order a Cardasian sunrise before replying with a partial shrug. “He’s interesting,” she said then added, “and the chase is part of the fun.”

Jim leaned forward in his seat, folding his hands. “Are you sure it isn’t ‘cause you’re in love with him, Lieutenant?”

Jim found him gripping his hands hard as a blush dusted her cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous. What’s there to like besides his status and his family.”

“Family?” Jim asked, peaking his interest.

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “Never mind, now that I know what I’m working with, it should be easier. Think you can give me another piece of advice?”

Her voice sounded hopeful. Jim looked at her, the smile still plastered on his face, but his eyes had lost its humor. “Why Lieutenant Uhura,” he said cheerfully and politely, “I already told you about his biggest weakness. It’s not my fault you fucked that up.” At her flinch, his fake smile turned into an equally fake pitying one. “He’s not interested, and you should give up.”

She gaped. “What gives you the right to tell me what to do Kirk?”

Jim dropped his smile completely. “As his bodyguard, I have orders. And Spock has instructed me to keep undesirables away from him. Which you currently fall under thanks to this mess up of yours.”

She glanced away, and Jim felt a tug at his lips. “Sorry, Uhura. I just thought I tell you to keep your distance from Spock for a while. You did me a favor and all, so I thought I’d return it. Give it time then maybe he’ll let you try again.”

She nodded grimly as Jim stood. “See you around,” he said sympathetically, patting her shoulder. Exiting the bar, Jim let a mischievous grin slip on his lips. That should take care of her hanging around Spock for a while.

Without much thought, he headed to Spock’s room, noticing the lack of guards. That was strange. Normally, Spock would be in by now. He loitered for a couple minutes until deciding he didn’t want to waste the trip. He entered the code to Spock’s room, intending to borrow a few books.

The scene before him stopped him in his tracks. In the small alcove of the captain’s quarters, Spock was seated on his heels, melding with a Serik who was seated across from him in a similar manner, dressed in matching loose fitting robes on a mat as incense burned. Both had their eyes closed and rather than being in pain as the others Spock melded with had been, Serik looked peaceful, his face and posture completely at ease.

Spock opened his eyes and drew his hand away, placing it in his lap as Serik followed seconds after. Spock turned his eyes on Jim, clearly disapproving. “I believe knocking is the courteous thing to do before entering one’s residence.”

“Sorry, thought you were out,” came the uneasy reply, staring at Spock’s hands.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “So it is logical to go into someone’s residence while they are not home then?”

“If you’re so worried about it, then you should change your passcode,” Jim countered. His comeback was weak, but he just couldn’t stop staring. He didn’t understand. Why would he subject Serik to a meld yet again? Everyone Spock melded with never recovered, yet Serik was fine. Did you have to be Vulcan to survive it? Did Serik do something that deserved punishment?

“I will take my leave,” Serik interjected, standing. “Thank you for the mediation session, Captain.” With a small bow to Spock and a small nod to Kirk, the other guard left.

“Is there something you require, Mr. Kirk?” Spock retrieved his gloves from the low-end table just off to his side, putting them on. Jim’s shoulders sagged with relief once the pale skin disappeared from view.

“Nothing, really,” he said walking over. The image of Spock in Uhura’s quarters was still preoccupying his mind. “I’m just really horny.” Jim could also remember clearly the last time he saw Spock in those robes. He couldn’t repress the anticipation at the memory, the phantom pleasures racking his body at a mere glance at the fabric. How could a memory so humiliating also fill him with such desire as well?

Spock stood, and Jim’s eyes followed his every movement as he gently picked up his sash off the bed. Jim followed him, picking up the other end of the sash and pulling, making Spock come closer with a raised eyebrow. “As much fun as it is to constantly be tied up, it’s hard on my shoulders.” They were close, Spock’s face inches away from his own. How long ago since they last kissed? Not since the gym when they started this game of theirs. Had it really been so long ago? Almost a month now, wasn’t it?

Spock took a gloved hand, placing a strong finger under Jim’s chin, tilting his head up just slightly. Those dark, intense eyes were staring into him, flickering to his lips then back up. Slowly, Spock leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against Jim’s. The tenderness only lasted for a couple seconds. Jim couldn’t contain himself, wrapping his arms around Spock’s neck and deepening and intensifying the kiss. Spock followed suit, wrapping an arm around Jim’s waist and pulling him flush against his body with a sharp tug.

How had Jim allowed for this to go on so long? There was a reason why they both avoided kissing, but he couldn’t remember. Didn’t want to remember. Spock’s lips were warm yet cooler than his. The Vulcan was clumsy in his delivery yet still made Jim’s knees weak with need. Spock moved just slightly, rubbing against Jim’s very interested member that was pressing against his slacks uncomfortably. Jim tilted his head back, letting out a soft hiss of pleasure.

Spock’s kisses didn’t stop, trailing down the side of his neck. “You are indeed aroused,” Spock said in a whisper against his skin. In the haze of Jim’s lust filled mind, he vaguely realized Spock was referring to his reason for entering the Vulcan’s room in the first place. “I am curious. What would you have done if I were not present?”

Jim was struggling to think. Spock had slipped a hand down the front of his slacks, giving his cock the attention it craved with slow calculated movements. “I don’t know. Probably masturbate on your bed while I waited,” he panted. Forcing himself to look at Spock, he added, “Or maybe I’d just stay long enough to dirty it.”

Spock lifted him up by the waist, taking Jim by surprise who instinctively wrapping his legs around Spock to stable himself. It was unneeded as Spock had simply deposited him on his desk, pushing unwanted PADDs out of the way. Spock seemed almost impatient.

“Does the thought of coming back to see my come dirtying your bed excite you, Spock?” He teased. “Or are you upset that you would have missed it.”

“Cease speaking,” Spock ordered, pushing Jim back onto the desk. For once, Spock wasn’t going to tie him up, but it was still obvious Spock planned to still control how much Jim interacted back. Well, baby steps, Jim thought before his mind blanked out from pleasure. Baby steps.

* * *

 

Jim rolled over in Spock’s bed. At some point, they had moved to the softer surface, Jim couldn’t really remember when. His body was relaxed even as Spock walked around the room completing various tasks. It seemed that Spock really hated staying dirty. He would always take a sonic shower afterwards, never staying in bed afterwards like Jim tended to do.

The moment Spock disappeared into the fresher, Jim lazily brought Spock’s PADD over to him, and logged into his own mail. A goofy smile spread on his lips just for the fact he could now get mail and read it. There was one message that pulled his interest. It was from Janice.

It was a simple message, consisting of two words. _I’m done._ His grin broadening, he replied to the email. He’d meet her in the observation deck in two hours. It was late enough that the place would be deserted. They could conclude their business there, and he would finally get Janice as well. He put the PADD back in its proper place and not a moment too soon. Spock came out, towel wrapped around his waist, walking around to retrieve his clothes.

Jim looked away before he was tempted to jump him yet again. “Game of chess, Spock?” he asked.

“At a later date. I have many duties I need to attend to. I had not anticipated you to be the one to approach me for intercourse.” Jim rolled his eyes at the word.

“What? So you’re the only one who gets to decide when we have sex?  Good luck with that, mister.” Jim forced himself to sit up, still covered with his and Spock’s come. The Vulcan’s eyes glanced him over, his pupil’s dilating at the sight. “You sure you don’t want another round?”

Spock looked away a little too fast. “I will leave first. Make yourself presentable before leaving my quarters. There’s a spare uniform at the back of my closet.” Jim rose an eyebrow at that, a bit surprised. This was only the second time he’d slept with Spock in this room. Then again, Spock did like to be prepared.

Spock left, and Jim crawled out of bed. Since he wasn’t in a rush, he took his time getting ready. Spock was probably leading the guards away from the room anyway, so they wouldn’t know he was still in here. Serik would have left to change and Sovik hadn’t seen him enter. If either returned, they probably assumed Spock had been alone when he left. He found the spare uniform where Spock indicated it would be and put it on. He often walked around in his uniform in his off hours due to the lack of any other clothing he owned, so it wouldn’t come off as odd for him to be wearing it at this time of night.

Clean and oddly happy with the outcome of today’s events, he made his way to the observation deck, a smile plastered on his face. “Janice,” he greeted.

“Mr. Kirk,” she smiled at the sight of him. She was in uniform as well, but she had removed her thigh high black boots, padding around barefoot. She had moved the chairs out of the way to make room for a blue blanket spread with two glasses of wine and a steak dinner for each of them upon it.

“You really went all out Janice. I’m flattered.”

“Well, we should celebrate the beginning of our world domination.” She gestured for him to sit down. “Have some wine.”

He sat down, putting on his most seductive smile. “I shall,” he raised his glass and put it to his lips.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she gasped, jumping to her feet. “I have a present for you.”

Jim put his glass down, silently following her, his hand sliding into his pocket. She was humming as she rummaged in her bag. “I really think you’re going to love it. It’s to die for.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, walking up behind her. Surprised by how close his voice was, she whirled around, straight into his awaiting knife. Her mouth worked wordlessly as she looked down at where the blood covered knife glimmered in the low lights. The long sharp knife she held in her hands dropped to the floor with a loud clang on the metal bulkhead. Her legs failed her, slumping in Kirk’s arms.

Kirk removed the knife from her chest, the blood smearing on his shirt and hands. “You’ve been a great help, Janice. Thanks for that.” He felt the last of her life fade in his arms before he dragged her over to the blanket and let her drop onto it.

With care, he got to work.

He removed his wine glass, setting it aside, then picked up the remaining plates and glass, disposing of it in the chute leading to the incinerator. Then he rolled up Janice in her blanket. The observation deck and the rec rooms were the only places that held chutes big enough to fit a human body due to the gatherings that were often present to help make clean-up faster afterwards. Due to this fact, he easily dumped the body down the chute with the plates and food.

Next, he took a cloth he had brought with him and gingerly wrapped it around Janice’s fallen blade then picked up the remaining glass with his other hand. He took a very small sip from his glass. The dizziness hit him quickly, making him stumble. He dropped the glass, letting it shatter upon impact then took the knife and sliced his forearm, relieved that the numbing agent had taken full affect. He stumbled some more, letting his arm swing and watched the blood fly out in an arch. Without the ability to balance, he fell over, smearing his blood-stained hand on the floor. Whatever agent she used had been a strong one if barely a sip could affect him like this. However, it worked in his favor.

He dropped the knife and then kicked it under a piece of furniture though it took him three tries before his foot made contact.  His clumsy attempts to clean up the blood and wine with his shirt served his purpose well too. The sleeve of his shirt was used as a temporary bandage to keep new blood from dripping on his hard work.

He was done, and everything was in place. He’d find out whether it worked or not tomorrow. He picked up Janice’s bag, kept the PADD, and threw out the rest.

Staggering to the door, he took one more look around the room. His eyes were losing focus as the drug started to hit him hard. “Check,” he whispered. “You’re turn, Spock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you see a mistake. Also, Sulu hitting on Uhura is a mirrorverse thing. If you haven't seen Mirror Mirror. Watch it. Her slapping him is hilarious.
> 
> Comment, please. I love hearing your thoughts, good or bad.


	21. It's a Date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I figure there's about 7 chapters left. I really have no clue. It's a guestimate. Kind of a fluffy chapter. Also, birthday's suck. Or at least mine usually do, especially leading up to it. Sigh. Just one more day, and it'll be over.

Serik carefully read the details about the report. Lieutenant Janice Lester had been on their watch list and had been showing suspicious activity the past eighteen days. There had been engineering parts missing from inventory as well, but there had been no signs of them being transferred off the ship. Compiling the missing pieces into possible usable devices bore no results into whatever it was the young woman had been planning. Those missing pieces might pose more of a threat than the missing lieutenant in the long run. She was a well-known weapons specialist.

“I have located our missing lieutenant.” Serik looked up from the report to take in the appearance of his older brother. Sovik had come in uncharacteristically closed off. Having known him all his life, Serik knew whatever the report contained bode ill news. “Her ashes have been found with the waste.”

So she was dead. A bit unexpected but not surprising.  “We should have a team locate her last known destination before her assassination.”

“I would not have come if that was the only news,” Sovik replied, causing his brother to stare at him unimpressed.

“You are unhappy with the results I presume.”

Sovik didn’t deny his emotions. At least not while they were alone. It may have suited Sovik better following the Romulan way than Vulcan, but they were given little choice in which path to follow when they were younger. Their mother had been very adamant about following Surak’s principles, and he was often criticized for not enforcing those principles onto his older brother when it was so obviously ill-suited for his person. Even now, when they were alone, he would not enforce it. He always noticed a marked improvement on Sovik’s controls later whenever he did this, allowing him to, as the human’s called it, blow off steam.

“Checking the security feeds, we have noticed that twenty minutes was absent from the observation room. I sent a few of our agents there to scan the room. These are the results.”

Sovik handed him the PADD he was carrying. Glancing over the information, Serik’s eyebrows rose marginally. A bloodied knife. UV scans of smeared blood. Small shards of glass. And finally, remnants of wine. Sovik had been thorough in his report as always, having already analyzed the blood, glass, and knife.

“Ms. Lester’s finger prints were on the knife. The blood however belonged to Mr. Kirk. Remnants of a temporary paralysis drug was found on the glass as well as in Mr. Kirk’s blood. The blood on the floor largely belongs to Mr. Kirk as well, but traces of Ms. Lester’s blood was found as well.”

“Yet, Mr. Kirk is alive and Ms. Lester is not.” Serik said, placing the PADD down. “Was there any record of him reporting to sickbay?”

“Negative. However, he does own his own dermal regenerator due to the nature of his work and training. Depending on the severity of the wound, he would be able to largely heal it himself or at the least stop the bleeding.”

Serik nodded. That was indeed true. “Ms. Lester has a history of seducing and killing men on the ship. She was also highly unstable thus why she never received a promotion despite her work ethic. She must have attempted to do the same to Mr. Kirk.”

It was a logical conclusion; however, Sovik’s bad mood did not change. In fact, it seemed to worsen. “What is on your mind, Sovik?” he asked. “You are attempting to hide something from me.”

“I have caught Ms. Janice in Mr. Kirk’s embrace twice before her death. While I do agree she was using him, I feel he was manipulating her also.”

Serik stared waiting patiently for more details.

“The evidence does not make sense given the individual involved. For this to work, Mr. Kirk would have had to digest a glass of wine given to him. As long as I have observed Mr. Kirk, he has never eaten a substance that has not been eaten by another individual or he has not made for himself. This behavior suggests that he automatically assumes any food given to him is poisoned unless proven otherwise.”

Serik tilted his head in agreement. “That is true, but you have also stated that he was romantically involved with Ms. Lester. Humans tend to make poor decisions when acting on their emotions. He may have accepted the drink from her.”

“I may believe that to be true if his attitude had changed. However, this morning, he acted as if nothing significant has happened. If he was emotionally compromised as you suggested, would he not show it? He is known for being expressive with his opinions and emotions. In addition, why would he try to hide his crime?”

“He has received orders not to harm crewmembers.”

“Unless in self-defense,” Sovik argued patiently.

“The young master has instilled fear of punishment into Mr. Kirk. He fears the meld. Perhaps he feared nu’ri-trensu would meld with him to confirm the truth.” Serik tilted his head just slightly to the left. “Though if it worries you, you can meld with him yourself to discover his true intentions.”

Sovik’s eyes glanced quickly away and back, leaving Serik perplexed. Why would Sovik not wish to meld with the human if he was so certain of his guilt? “What is it you do not wish to tell me, Dinam?”

“It is… not my place to say.” Sovik exhaled. “We should confront Kirk and see if he denies the charge.”

“I will call for him.” Serik took off his left glove and placed his hand palm up. “But please be reminded, Dinam, that you are my elder. I will not judge you nor the secrets you carry. Any secret you divulge to me, I will carry to my grave.”

Sovik glanced over Serik’s hand, at the thin scars just above his younger brother’s wrists. Serik offered a show of surrender and vulnerability showing his hand in this manner, and guilt was hidden behind Sovik’s blank façade.

“I am unsure if I should speak. I wish to protect nu’ri-trensu, but I am unsure of who I should protect him against. Is it possible I wish for Kirk to be guilty because he is too close?”

“As a human once said, if you must ask, then you know your answer.” Serik replied. “It is true nu’ri-trensu is spending much time with the human, but perhaps a human can offer friendship to his human half, the part we cannot reach.”

Sovik’s lips thinned, and Serik felt mild irritation before he defused the emotion within himself. If Spock wished to make friends with a human, there should be little problem as long as he remained vigilant in keeping himself safe. Spock even seemed happier as of late. A little more eager to finish his work. A little more alive, not just going through the motions of someone who was supposed to be.

 Even under Vulcan principles, Spock always seemed empty. An emptiness that reflected the inner workings of Spock’s mind. A place that should have been filled with bonds with family and friends and an entire planet worth of people was only filled with darkness. Two threads amidst an ocean of blackness was enough to keep a Vulcan from going insane, but not enough to feel whole. Even he and Sovik had at least a hundred bonds from family and acquaintances. Spock had no one.

“I still believe Mr. Kirk is planning something,” Sovik stated, but he seemed resigned to the fact they lacked proof.

“Perhaps.” He tried to give Sovik something to help his brother with his theory even if it was unfounded. “Ms. Lester has taken items from engineering, and they have not been located. If you locate the items, it may support your theory that Mr. Kirk is truly a mastermind.”

Sovik raised an eyebrow at the word mastermind, noting that Serik was poking fun at him. “I will look into it.”

“Very well.” Pushing the intercom, he called for Kirk to come to the briefing room where they were residing. Kirk must have been expecting it because he was in the room within minutes.

“We do not wish to take up precious time, so we will be direct. Do you know what happened to Janice Lester, Mr. Kirk?”

Guilt covered Jim’s features, and he moved his right hand to hold his left arm. “Maybe,” he said quietly.

“We will give you a chance to tell us what happened last night. If you come forth with the truth now, your punishment will be less severe.”

Jim shifted uncomfortably. “She wanted to see me last night. So I went to see her, alright?”

“From your tone, something else happened than just ‘seeing’ her,” Sovik said.

Jim glared. “Look, she was crazy. She made this fancy dinner, and I thought maybe she was into me. It’s not like anyone ever wants to sleep with me on this stupid ship. I took a sip of wine and realized immediately it was drugged. It was strong and knocked me on my ass. Next thing I know, she’s coming at me with a knife.”

“So you killed her,” Serik said as Jim’s story aligned to his hypothesis.

The human nodded, clearly not happy. “You guys are such hard asses, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t get thrown in the booth or worse, so I tried to hide it. Obviously, not well enough,” Jim muttered the last sentence, annoyance lacing his tone.

“It was obviously in self-defense. Why did you try to hide it?” Sovik asked.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I was drugged. I don’t remember much other than thinking ‘oh shit’ and trying to get out of there. I couldn’t exactly think clearly.”

Serik nodded. Given the strength of the drug Ms. Lester had used, it was incredible that Kirk was able to move functionally at all. He must have built a small immunity to the drug during his time as a slave. It wasn’t uncommon for slavers to use the drug to keep their slaves sedated at a cheap cost.

Serik glanced at his brother, reading his facial expressions with practiced ease. He was still wary of Kirk, but the human had admitted to the crime and the evidence pointed to self-defense. There was no reason to punish him.

“You stated that there is no one on this ship who wants to intercourse with you?” Sovik asked, causing Serik to crease his brow momentarily before smoothing his features yet again. It was an odd question. It was irrelevant and could not be proven.

However, the question pulled the annoyed human’s attention, snapping his head to meet Sovik’s gaze, and the frail human body became rigid. “Why? Do you know of someone?”

Kirk may have said it as an attempt at humor, but the way they held each other’s gaze made Serik uneasy. They both were aware of something that he was not privy to. “You are dismissed Mr. Kirk. Your cooperation is appreciated.”

With a stiff nod, Kirk left, not looking back at them.

“Do you still wish to keep silent on your secret, Sovik?”

“Should we inform the nu’ri-trensu on this matter?” Sovik asked, avoiding the question. If he was human, Serik would sigh at the unnecessary stubbornness.

“He is already overwhelmed with the work load given to him by the admiralty. He cannot afford a moment’s distraction. He is entrusting us to be able to manage the smaller problems on this ship that do not require his direct attention. As such, this falls under our purview.”

There was protest in the way Sovik put his hands behind his back but kept his thoughts and objections to himself.  For now, it will do.  “May I join you in tonight’s meditation?”

At the question, the older Vulcan shoulder’s sagged and the corners of his face eased. “You ask as if I would ever deny you.”

“There is always a beginning to everything.”

Sovik’s lips twitched. “I will take the first shift.”

Serik bowed his head at Sovik’s declaration.  As Sovik went to attend his duties, Serik went back to the reports he had been given. Looking it over one last time with a skeptical point of view. While Kirk’s actions were strange for him, it wasn’t completely unlikely, but Sovik had what humans called intuition, and often saw what he did not.  He could not completely dismiss his brother’s analysis.

Opening a new message, he prepared to send out a message to all their operatives.

_Priority 2 Order._

_Watch and analyze the actions of the captain’s personal slave and bodyguard, James Tiberius Kirk._

* * *

Thirteen days. That was the last time he had spoken to or even talked to Spock, let alone sleep with him. While Jim’s work load was light, eight hour shifts with his promised day off, Spock was everywhere. When Jim arrived on the bridge, Spock was already there, doing paperwork and reading reports. When Jim went to lunch, Spock was putting together landing parties. When Jim retired for the evening, Spock was in the labs overseeing experiments.

He wondered if Spock was sleeping at all. In the middle of the first week, when he couldn’t sleep, he was wandering the ship halls only to see Spock still working, overseeing a scan of some sort. Now, at the end of the second week, Spock was looking worse for wear. His skin was looking pale, there were light green bruises under his eyes, and he looked a bit thinner around the face.

No one seemed to notice, and Spock still ran the ship better than most humans, but Jim noticed a slight delay in his responses and a slight increase in irritability.

In the two weeks, they had visited four planets, back to back, with no rest due to their rushed schedule, got into two altercations, one with the natives on one of the planets and one with the Klingons on another. Unfortunately, Jim missed both as he was ship bound when Spock had gone down to the planets.

Spock being busy also meant Jim found a large portion of his free time opened up. Sure, he read his books and kept up with his studies, but he found himself bored soon enough.  Bones was busy most of the day until late in the evenings, and Scotty was great in moderate doses. He focused on keeping the connections he had made and created a few more in the science and engineering departments, but it wasn’t enough to keep him entertained.

Jim woke, groaning when he realized he had yet another hard on. Body heavy with sleep, he dragged his hands over his face, trying to deal with the reality of the situation. It’s been like this for six days now. Every morning he’d be awoken by wet dreams of him and Spock. He had refused to touch himself, planning to use that pent-up frustration on Spock for when he came for him, but this was getting ridiculous. Was Spock that busy or had he grown tired of him? Whatever the answer, he’d have to do something about this soon. Sonic showers didn’t help much in getting rid of the problem.

He debated taking care of it manually, but eventually decided one way or another, he was getting laid today. Might as well wait for the real thing rather than the cheap imitation of his hand and imagination. Gathering his will, he forced his mind to think of unpleasant things as he went about his morning routine.

There was one good thing about this distance from Spock. Lately, Jim was being watched. Not in that, ‘feeling someone watching you’ kind of way either. Blatantly, watched. People he had never formally met suddenly approaching and wanting to start conversations with him or those sitting at the far end of his table when they hadn’t before not talking to him, but obviously listening to his conversations with Bones and Scotty.

Jim memorized every face. He had an idea of who they were. They had finally come out of the woodwork. Spock’s operatives and information sources. He had to admit, if he hadn’t been expecting them, he wouldn’t have noticed them as much, but he had been waiting to see what Spock would do to the response of Janice’s death.

Not that he believed Spock was giving them orders. No, that nice little job had fallen into Serik and Sovik’s lap. Jim was sure Sovik at least speculated he was sleeping with Spock. The line of questioning had ensured that theory. The beating Jim got when he resumed his training with him also seemed to indicate that as well. As for why he believed it was the twins conducting the investigation, it was because Spock seemed too distracted with everything else, and Spock hadn’t changed his attitude towards him in the short interaction they did manage to have. He was 80 percent sure Spock didn’t even know about Janice’s demise. But with the separation between himself and Spock, they had no proof of them interacting past a professional capacity.

Finally dressed and morning wood free, Jim stumbled out of his quarters still feeling stiff after yesterday’s _sparring_ session. At least today he didn’t have to go. Serik was busy and had given him the day off. Naturally, that meant he had to go bother Bones. No one else would be up at this ungodly hour. Never to disappoint, Bones was in sickbay as usual even at this time. “Bones!”

“Great just what I need, more work,” the doctor scowled. “What is it this time? Bruises from your beating session or from what you call a sex life?”

“Neither,” Jim grinned, plopping down across from him. “I’m bored.”

“What do I look like? An entertainment system?”

Jim tilted his head. “Now that you mention it…”

The older man groaned, banging his head on his desk as Jim laughed. “I wish I never knew you.”

“Seriously though,” Jim started to ask as his laughter came to an end. “Do you ever leave sickbay?”

“Depends. Do people ever stop trying to kill each other on this damn metal tin can?”

Jim shrugged, and his mood started to deflate. As much fun as Bones was, watching him do paperwork wasn’t exciting. He could read some more, but he didn’t really feel like it after spending 5 hours last night studying. “You wouldn’t happen to play chess, would you?”

The doctor scoffed. “Fuck no.”

Jim sagged further.

“So you probably haven’t heard yet, but it’s been announced that we have shore leave.”

“Shore leave?” Jim repeated. “What’s that?”

“It means that everyone on the ship who submits a request can get their feet on some real dirt and do whatever the hell we want before they stuff us back in this can like sardines.” McCoy pushed his PADD in front of him with pictures of a beautiful planet with various activities. “It’s on Risa this time.”

Jim blinked, taking in the pictures. “It’s nice Bones, but I doubt I’ll be allowed leave. I’m a slave.”

McCoy snorted as if Jim was the stupid one. “I already asked the cold-blooded computers. They said it was fine as long as you were aware that the normal rules still apply and that any transgression you commit on shore leave will be met with twice the punishment.”

Jim looked at the pictures again. He had seen pictures of planets like this, but he had never set foot on one. The planets he lived on were heavily polluted with smog hanging in the air and everyone living in shanty housing. There was no sandy white beaches, blue skies, or clean water or air. “I don’t have anything to wear,” he said lamely.

Seeing his hesitation, McCoy stood up and went to his side, sitting on the desk in front of him. “We got you covered. Scotty managed to replicate you some clothes. You have a whole suitcase full of them, and I booked us some rooms. So you’ll have a room all to yourself.”

Jim opened his mouth, and no words would come out. McCoy had thought of everything. He had even taken into the account that Jim would not sleep unless he felt secure, which in this case translated into his own room with a locked door instead of sharing. “I’ll…I’ll pay you back for the room.”

“Don’t worry about it kid. Just save your money. It’s not like I spend my money on anything besides good alcohol.” Patting Jim’s shoulder, the doctor got up from the desk. “See Scotty about your clothes. He’ll tell you what to wear when we go to the club tonight.”

“I may come from a backwater planet, but I know what a club is Bones,” Jim turned his head away from Bones, hiding his embarrassment. “I can dress myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just if you do decide to shack up with some alien for the night, see me first. I have a couple of possible infections I should inoculate you against.” Seeing the grimace on Jim’s face, McCoy happily left.

Still a bit dazed that he was getting what pretty much amounted to a vacation, Jim made his way down to engineering. Just as he was going in, Spock was coming out. Serik nor Sovik were not at his side which caused Jim to frown. He nodded at Farrell who was standing in their place. “Why are you down here?” he asked Spock.

Spock didn’t even raise an eyebrow, causing the frown on Jim’s lips to deepen. Spock looked like shit. He wanted to ask when was the last time he slept, but knew better than to ask it where anyone could hear. “This is my ship, Mr. Kirk. I could ask the same about you.”

“Going to see Scotty. Bones said that you gave me permission for shore leave.”

Spock nodded. “Indeed. You have performed exceptionally and have adhered to the rules I have set for you with a few minor exceptions. I saw no reason you could not indulge.”

An awkward silence followed.

“If you have no need for me Mr. Kirk, I have reports I need to finish.”

Spock started to walk away.

“Hey, you want to come with us?”

Spock stopped, finally giving Jim that surprised eyebrow raise. Spock wasn’t the only one surprised. It left Jim’s mouth before he even registered what he had proposed.

“Pardon?”

“Scotty, Bones, and I are going to a club tonight. I thought maybe you’d want to spend your shore leave with us.”

“I’m afraid I would not appreciate the experience the same way you and your acquaintances would, so I will decline.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jim laughed, trying to cover up the uncertainty he felt. “Just thought I ask. Didn’t think you would anyway.” He missed the downturn of Spock’s lips at that. “Well see you around,” Jim waved and continued his journey to engineering.

Spock watched Jim leave. It was their first interaction in a personal way since nine point four days ago. It had been… missed. Feeling his eyelids drooping, Spock continued his way to his quarters, already rough drafting the last of his reports in his head. It was the last on his list of items the admiralty had asked of him. They must have realized that not only did he complete the tasks assigned to him on time, he did them exceptionally well. He could only count himself lucky, though he knew luck did not exist, that they had abandoned their endeavor and had not noticed that he assigned a few of those tasks to Sovik and Serik to ease the burden.

With his shield in tatters and his body past his limits, he was anticipating the sleep he would have in 3.5 hours. He was until he saw Sovik standing outside his door ready to turn in more reports Spock would have to look over. Spock found he was ready to shout out expletives. Thankfully, his controls were not that far gone yet. “Sovik,” he greeted and gestured for him to go into the room first following after him.

“I have come with the reports,” Sovik handed Spock a PADD, noticing the trembling in Spock’s hands. “When was the last time you have meditated, Captain?”

“I am having trouble recalling,” Spock answered, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. “Around four or five days now.”

“You have not slept in thirteen days, 8 hours, and thirty-two minutes, and you made the decision to forego meditation as well?” Sovik reprimanded in his monotone voice which Spock thought of as nagging. Closing his eyes, he reigned in his thoughts. Such comments were beneath him.

“If I were to finish by the set deadline, it was the only thing left to dismiss, and I could delegate no more orders to you or Serik.”

Sovik didn’t argue so his logic must have been sound enough. Spock was having trouble caring what the other Vulcan thought of him. “Will you be sleeping today?”

“After I finish these reports.” Spock sat down at his desk. Sovik, however, did not leave.

Too tired to ask, Spock finished typing and editing his reports, sending them to Starfleet Headquarters, then moved on to Sovik’s work. It was all as he expected until he reached the last report. “Lieutenant Janice Lester is dead?”

“Affirmative.”

Spock’s brows drew together as he continued reading. “This event happened thirteen days ago. Why am I now just being informed?”

“Serik believed that it was not worth the time and consideration. All evidence pointed to self-defense. I am sure you know of Janice’s reputation.”

“I am aware,” Spock said, gripping the PADD tighter than necessary. “And Mr. Kirk was her killer?”

“Yes, he admitted to the crime. At the least, it is confirmed they were most likely engaging in coitus together.”

Quietly Spock asked, “What makes you come to this conclusion?”

“I caught Ms. Lester in Mr. Kirk’s embrace twice, one of those times they were kissing, the other she was attempting to stimulate him with her hand on his genitals.”

Spock placed the PADD down, the trembling in his hands increasing, this time with rage rather than fatigue. “Send the report to my personal PADD, I will analyze the details myself. Also, I wish to inform you that I will be taking shore leave on planet.”

Sovik’s eyebrows jumped up into his hairline. “Should I bring Serik with us?”

“I will be going alone with Mr. Kirk. Your company is not needed.”

“I must object.”

“Your objection is noted and dismissed as are you.”

Sovik opened his mouth then thought better of it, closing it and swallowing whatever he wished to say. “As you wish.”

Spock barely heard Sovik leave. Where did this anger stem from? Humans were known to be promiscuous. Why would Kirk be an exception? The punishment for his transgressions would normally be cutting off their agreement, but Spock did not want to. He wanted to drag the human into a room and punish him and then take him. He wanted to see him on his knees submitting to him as he had when drugged. He wanted to ravish his mind so that the only person Kirk ever thought of and craved was Spock.

Spock went to his meditating alcove. There was an hour before Kirk and the others left for shore leave. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he should at least be able to reinforce his shields and mental disciplines. Even he realized his dark and possessive thoughts were largely due to his lack of sleep and meditation. He would ask Kirk about Janice once his mind was more ordered and decide then whether to terminate the agreement or not. It was simple, rational, and logical. If he noticed that his Vulcan half did not agree to that plan, he ignored it, burying it down in his subconscious along with the beginnings of a mental bond slowly taking root.

* * *

 

When Spock entered the transporter room, every eye was turned to him in surprise, including a bright blue pair Spock couldn’t look away from.

“What’s he doing here?” Dr. McCoy complained loudly, glaring daggers at him.

“I was invited by Mr. Kirk,” Spock looked at Jim. “Assuming your invitation still stands.”

Kirk seemed to have lost the ability to speak as well, nodding at first before giving him a blinding smile. “Of course. It’ll be fun.”

“There goes the neighborhood,” came the doctor’s unnecessary reply. The Scotsman had his gaze on Jim with a knowing look which Kirk ignored.

“Don’t be so xenophobic Bones. Think of it as an adventure.” Kirk stepped up onto the transporter pad to slap the doctor’s shoulder in a friendly manner. It was then Spock realized what Jim was wearing. Low leather pants that showed off the shape of his butt and hips held up with a studded black belt. His shirt was white and sleeveless that hugged his body, leaving little doubt in anyone’s mind that the human was well toned and muscled underneath. Lastly, he wore black laced boots that came partway up his calf. The ensemble was simple, easy on the eyes, and would draw the eye of any being capable of sight. It was the exact opposite of Spock’s simple Vulcan garb that was more suited for a quiet evening in a café.

Kirk did look around. “It’s just you?”

Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

Instead of an answer, he moved over to make room for Spock.  While it was still middle of the ship day, it was the middle of the night in the city they were going to. Spock stood next to Jim, standing beside Scotty who looked uncomfortable at the close proximity to him.

“Energize, Ensign.”

“Aye, sir.”

The first thing that reached Spock was the smell. Non- recycled air mixed with the smell of various foods, burning herbs, and alcohol. The combination was less than appealing, but the slave beside him seemed to have other feelings about it, looking at the active night atmosphere of the city. The cobblestone road they had materialized on was lined with lights and various stalls selling food, trinkets, and services. There were even street performances of various talents surrounded by entertained tourists.

Jim took a few steps toward the crowded area before someone grabbed his elbow and yanked him back. “Come on kid, you can look at the attractions later,” McCoy said. “I need alcohol before you go gallivanting around the disease infested merchandise.”

Scotty laughed, slapping McCoy’s shoulder. “Come on, McCoy. Let the lad enjoy himself. I think I might hit one of the brothels after a few rounds of scotch myself.”

“Nah, I promised to go clubbing with you. I’ll come back tomorrow,” Kirk smiled.

“Luckily, the rooms I booked are next door to the club,” McCoy pulled out his PADD and the directions to their destination. “It’s just a few minutes away from here.”

Spock looked over McCoy’s shoulder, noting the location of the club and hotel McCoy booked. McCoy took a step away, clearly uncomfortable.

Mr. Scott lead the way to their destination. The hotel really was next door to the club and even had a connecting walkway. “I’ll go on and check us in. You lads go on first.”

“Alright. See you in a bit Scotty.” Kirk waved the engineer off before looking at Spock. “What about you? Don’t you have to go check in?”

“Starfleet supplies and books my accommodations whenever the ship has shore leave whether I decide to take shore leave or not. I may check in whenever I wish until the last minute of shore leave.”

This earned him surprised looks from Kirk, but not so much the doctor. Given what the doctor knew, it probably didn’t come as a surprise for him.

“Well let’s head on in. Hopefully we can find a table,” the doctor grumbled, unzipping his brown leather jacket.

Jim realized why when they walked in. The moment the door opened, a wave of heat washed over them. The place was packed to the brim, a majority of the bodies dancing in the large area on the bottom floor and in random places on the upper floor. The tables were obviously full too. Finding no luck on the main floor, they headed upstairs Thankfully, as they made their second round, a group got up to leave as they were walking by, so they were able to secure a table, a booth overlooking the lower dance floor. “I’ll go look for something to clean this off,” McCoy shouted over the music.

Jim nodded and gestured for Spock to slide into the booth first. “After you.”

Spock slid into semi-circle booth, trying not to touch the dirtied table in the process. Jim found amusement at the entire process. Spock was clearly uncomfortable. “You don’t come to places like this much, do you?” he yelled, sliding in next to him.

Spock looked around with an analytical eye. “I do not understand how any creature can find this sort of entertainment relaxing.”

Jim’s lips curled slowly into a smile. “Well, maybe we can fix that.”

McCoy came back with a towel and quickly cleaned the table. “I already ordered us drinks,” he said, tossing the used towel onto the floor without a care. “Jim, I know you like Budweiser, can’t for the life of me understand why you like that horse piss.”

“Reminds me of home,” he laughed as the waitress, brought their drinks. Jim didn’t touch his bottle until after McCoy took a swing from it. The doctor’s face contorted with a sour look, grabbing his own whiskey shot and quickly threw it back. Jim laughed even harder, picking up his bottle.

“You owe me,” Bones glared.

“What about you Spock?” Jim asked, turning his attention back to Spock and angling his body to face him. “What’s your poison?”

Spock’s eyes narrowed. “I do not prefer any type of poison. I rather ensure my opponents demise by physical means.”

Jim’s smile broadened this time with amusement. “I meant what type of alcohol do you like. Bones assured me before we beamed down that they have almost everything here.”

Spock turned his head, looking straight ahead when he answered. “Alcohol does not affect my physiology the same way it does to the Terran body. My metabolism breaks down the solution too quickly to take effect.”

“Ah, there has to be something,” Jim scooted closer, holding up his beer by the bottle neck in between two fingers, swinging it. “No body is immune to everything. Something must get you drunk.”

 Spock raised an eyebrow. “If there was such a substance, I’d be mentally impaired to divulge that information to you; especially in a crowded environment where anyone may overhear.”

Jim took that as a challenge. “I’ll find something. Hey waitress!” He yelled over the volume, proceeding to order five different drinks.

During that time, Scotty had returned, taking a seat beside McCoy with a bottle of scotch in his hand. “What’s the lad doing?”

“Apparently, he decided to take on the challenge in finding something that will make a Vulcan drunk,” McCoy shook his head.

Scotty snorted and took a drink from his bottle. “Don’t you know?”

“Of course, but I’m don’t want to see a drunk Vulcan. Do you?”

Scotty’s eyes widened. “You might have a point there.”

Jim plopped back down in his seat with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Okay, so I ordered five different drinks.” He proceeded to tell Spock the contents, only gaining an unimpressed look in the process. Once the drinks arrived, the Vulcan drank every single one without hesitation then looked at Jim who growled and proceeded to buy even stronger drinks.

Spock was aware that if he drank enough beverages with very high alcohol content even his body would struggle to break it all down, but he was amused by the human’s determination. Also, he calculated the human would have to stop soon with his limited funds. The most Spock would have was a light buzz from the alcohol.

Sure enough, Jim’s funds grew short, and he gave up, having consumed only three beers and a glass of bourbon himself. Finding a new source of entertainment, Jim went onto the dance floor, dragging Scotty with him.

Spock watched the human make his way to the center of the floor down below. There were many species of aliens here. Spock counted at least 23 different variaties. Kirk drew all their attentions. His blonde hair and vivid blue eyes were uncommon even among humans. His perfectly proportioned body swayed with the music with practiced ease, and his charm wafted off him like a pheromone that drew others to him.

In a matter of minutes, there were woman and a few men clawing for his attention, trying to dance with him, near him, and Jim entertained them all, switching partners frequently, grinding against them as they wrapped themselves around him.

“Kid can dance,” the doctor muttered into his glass.

Spock had to agree. He did not understand the appeal of such an establishment. It smelled of sweat, vomit, and alcohol, the music was deafening, and there were too many people to be comfortable, but Jim’s dancing made him want to forget all that. His movements were hypnotic that drew Spock’s eyes to his hips, and the light sheen of sweat appearing on Jim’s body made it shine under the lighting, and his shirt was quickly becoming see through as it clung to his skin.

“So why are you here?” the doctor asked, pulling Spock’s attention away.

“Pardon?”

McCoy placed his glass down. “As long as I’ve been on that ship, you’ve never taken shore leave or have left the ship without at least one of the twin computers. On top of that, you’ve been super nice to Jim.”

“I believe, Doctor, that it was your suggestion to try to become friends with him rather than an enemy. Your advice has been extremely effective,” Spock stated. “Mr. Kirk invited me to this event, and if I am correct, a friend would accept the invitation. Am I wrong?”

“No,” McCoy glared. “However, you’ve been staring at Jim like a piece of meat since he got onto the dance floor.” The doctor leaned forward, narrowing the distance. “If you force yourself on him, I’ll do everything in my power to make you suffer. Got it?”

“I will pretend I did not just hear you threatening a superior officer,” Spock replied evenly. “And rest assured, Doctor McCoy, if I raped Mr. Kirk, I believe I would be in need of your expertise as I would have lost my mind and rationale.”

 McCoy leaned back, eying him with obvious doubt about his intentions. It would have been easier to just reveal his arrangement with Kirk, but there was a part of him that was hesitant to. Having nothing else better to do, he went back to watching Jim dance.

An hour passed with him just doing that. Watching the human interact with other beings. Casually touching them, rubbing up against them, whispering to them. McCoy left sometime during that hour with an aesthetically pleasing blonde woman, leaving Spock alone to guard their drinks and table. 

The Cardassian sunrise he was currently sipping from was surprisingly pleasant tasting despite the strong use of sweet fruits. He had diverted his attention from Kirk briefly to observe an altercation near the entrance between a Jem’Hadar and a Tellerite. A security guard had diffused the situation shortly after the first punch was thrown, stunning both of them and dragging them out. However, when Spock returned his gaze to his human, he momentarily lost control, the glass shattering in his hand from excess pressure.

Kirk was still on the dance floor, but there was someone else with him. He was tall with several inches on Jim, his skin dark, and the top of his head perfectly smooth and free of hair. He was pressed against Kirk’s back, arm wrapped around the human’s thin waist, trapping him in his arms as he grinded against him. Jim’s arm was reaching behind him, hooking around the stranger’s neck as they dance, smiling at something the stranger was saying as the stranger’s thumb pulled lightly at the hem of Kirk’s pants. With Kirk’s pants being so tight, Spock could see exactly how the human was reacting to that attention.

Kirk’s blue eyes looked up and met with his, the smile on his lips widening before leaning his head back onto the taller man’s shoulder, lips parting just slightly.

The following moments went by in a blur. Spock wasn’t aware of when his body moved; only that when he came to, he was lifting the man off the floor by his neck with one hand and pulling Jim away with the other.

“Do not touch what is not yours,” Spock said. Even without raising his voice over the loud music, his warning was loud and clear to the man dangling off the floor.

“I-I didn’t…. know,” he choked out, clawing at Spock’s hand. “I’m …sorry.”

Dropping him, the man coughed and gasped for air.

Spock dragged Kirk away, everyone moving out of the Vulcan’s path. He didn’t even realize how Kirk wasn’t fighting him or that he hadn’t said a word regarding Spock's treatment of him. No, the anger that swelled within him and an emotion he could not identify was overwhelming his already weak shields. Why did he want to repress them anyway? Kirk was his. The lowly human male who dared to proposition him, dared to want more than the privilege of dancing with him, should be grateful he was left breathing.

Spock did not have a specific destination in mind when he left the club through the hotel’s connecting entrance, but shoved Kirk into the elevator with more force than necessary, jamming his finger against the button without looking. The moment the doors closed, Spock attacked Kirk, shoving him against the back of the elevator, devouring his lips in a punishing kiss, that cut the human’s lips with his teeth making them red and swollen. His hands fisted the white fabric of Kirk’s shirt, tearing it in the process.

Kirk broke the kiss, turning his head to the side to breath. “Bastard,” he whispered then groaned when Spock bit down on his neck, before soothing it over with his rough, green-tinged tongue.

“Cease speaking,” Spock growled, his right hand traveling to the side of Kirk’s face. His fingers moving over his psi points unconsciously. His human had lost that right, allowing another to touch him so easily.

Jim flinched away from his touch, gaining another growl from the Vulcan, changing tactics. He moved to Kirk’s pants, ripping it open, popping off the button and breaking the zipper with one sharp tug. Every place Lester had touched, every place that man had touched, he would erase it. Kirk, no, Jim, was his. His!

With a fluid motion, he ripped Jim’s shirt off his body with the use of his strength, too impatient to take it off the normal way, and dropped the shreds onto the floor. Jim’s body was a marvel. A piece of artwork waiting to be devoured by him. It had been too long since he had left his mark on Jim’s body. Every kiss and bite mark had long since faded since their time apart. That was unacceptable.

The elevator reached its destination, dinging as the doors opened. The merits of moving to a private room almost evaded Spock. Annoyed that he’d be forced to move rather than being able to take Jim there and now.

He picked Jim up, throwing him over his shoulder, much to the human’s loud protests. “Fuck, Spock! Put me down! I have legs!”

He wasn’t in the mood for his complaints. A few steps off the elevator, he fished out his Starfleet ID badge, swiping it against the door lock. The door had barely opened when Spock walked through, heading straight for the bed and tossing the human onto it.

“I suggest you prepare yourself.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. His pant's fly was open revealing his choice to go commando for their outing. He just stared up at Spock with a challenging gaze and a smirk on his lips. “And if I don’t want to?”

“It will hurt.”

“Then hurt me.” Jim licked his lips. “I know you want to.”

Why did he bother restraining himself, Spock wondered as he took off his clothes, his eyes never leaving Jim’s form. Jim was laid out on his bed, practically begging to be taken by him, begging to be punished by him. Getting on the bed himself, he ripped the remains of Jim’s clothes off his body.

* * *

With a gentle hand, he brushed Spock’s bangs away from his face, taking in his sleeping form. He had practically collapsed afterwards. The stoic lines had softened in the Vulcan’s sleep, giving him a soft look. Jim never noticed before, but Spock’s hair was so soft and silky between his fingers, falling back into place after each stroke.

Maybe he shouldn’t have provoked Spock at the club. He had felt Spock’s eyes on him the entire time he danced, and he had waited for the Vulcan to do something. Just his intense gaze from afar made Jim excited. But after an hour of nothing, he decided to give him a little incentive to move. He never imagined he would get such a big reaction out of him.

How tired must of Spock been to fall asleep in front of him? Did he trust him enough to do this of his own will or just too exhausted to have much of a choice. Spock was completely out and unguarded. He was vulnerable in front of him like this.

Spock buried his face in Jim’s neck, wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist possessively. Jim should have felt trapped. If Spock wanted, he could overpower him and kill him while Jim slept or slow down his movements if he needed to escape. Jim didn’t even have the knife he normally kept under his pillow. Instead, he felt calm and sleepy in Spock’s arms. His eyelids growing heavy as the time passed. A few winks should be okay. Just a few minutes. Spock wouldn’t hurt him. With a few more strokes, Jim fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously tried to write the sex scene this time, but I lost motivation. I think since I read so much sex in high school on fanfiction before, I've lost interest in writing it. Sorry. Please blame me. (bows deeply)
> 
> Also, I'm kind of pissed off I made Sovik and Serik related now. Damn my lack of foresight. 
> 
> Comment and kudos please. Either are appreciated. If you don't like it, I'd like to know why.


	22. It's a Date?: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I'm a couple days late. I've been trying to update every 10 days. It's day 12.
> 
> So Jim's thinking in this chapter is a little bit erratic. Doesn't help I cut out another sex scene that would have elaborated on his thought process, so I will explain a little what happened in the end notes.

Sunlight drifted in through the small crack in the curtains and onto Jim’s face, annoying the tired human until he finally gave in and opened his eyes. His brain was slow to reboot, blinking a few times then staring at the ceiling. Something warm was pressed against his back and something soft tickled the nape of his neck. The arm wrapped around his waist was a comfortable weight and instead of causing panic, brought content.

They must have shifted positions sometime during the night since Spock was no longer asleep on top of him. If Jim’s bladder wasn’t about to burst, he would have just laid there and enjoyed the warmth another body brought. Something he didn’t normally indulge in.

Prying off the arm proved tricky. Spock really did not want to let him go. Every attempt to move resulted in Spock’s hold tightening. Somehow, with lots of maneuvering, he managed to get free without waking Spock. Padding across the ridiculously plush carpet, he made his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was large. Unnecessarily so. The tiles looked to be made from some sort of gray stone. The deep tub was big enough to fit five people, and the shower, two. There was a his-and-her sink set up, and the toilet had a room to itself.

Seeing the tub, Jim knew he’d have access to hot water. Deciding to relax in that luxury later that night, he settled for a quick shower to wash off the dried cum and sweat on his skin. Spock had gripped him too hard again, leaving bruises, but he didn’t mind. He loved the look on Spock’s face whenever he showed them off. That animalistic hunger barely restrained behind his controls. The hot water eased his tight muscles, and he almost groaned at the feel of it. If only his room on the ship had access to this.

Stepping out of the shower, he eyed a fluffy white robe and decided what the hell. His clothes had been torn to shreds thanks to an impatient Vulcan. He’d have to put up with Jim using his complementary bathrobe.

Walking out, Spock was still deeply asleep, soft snores filling the otherwise silent room. Nothing else to do, Jim decided to explore the room because calling it a room wasn’t appropriate. A penthouse would have been more accurate. Jim hadn’t had a chance to really take it in last night, but now that he could, it definitely was a high-end room. Spock’s room consisted of a floor to ceiling window that took up the entire wall, overlooking the ocean and the activity below. The bed was king sized with dark blue sheets and a sleek silver nightstand beside it. A desk was situated in a corner with a plush chair, and the closet was of walk in size.

On the opposite wall was a door that led out to another room, a much larger area with an open floor plan. Again, there was a floor to ceiling window where there was a dining room table, made of wood that fit six people and had a chandelier hanging over it. Just off to the side was a high-end kitchen with a shiny, smooth stone for the counter tops, an actual fucking stove and oven, a replicator for the non-culinary and lazy types, a fridge, and completely stocked with pots and pans ready to be used.  And finally, there was a seating area where a TV took up a large portion of the wall.

Off to the side, there was a set of stairs that led to a loft that overlooked the room down below that seemed to be a recreation area ideal for hanging out, and lastly, there was a large balcony that had a hot tub and fire pit.

Jim walked back down the stairs from the loft frowning. How did Spock afford a place like this? Sure, Starship captains got paid exceptionally well. Many were wealthy in their own right, but Spock had just become captain, and he had said Starfleet themselves booked him the room.  Starfleet would never book a room like this for anyone unless there were trying to impress a dignitary or it was for royalty or something similar. Added to the fact Spock was Vulcan, there would be no reason for them to give him special treatment. In fact, they would give him the shittiest room possible if that were the case.

Jim entered the bedroom just in time to see Spock wake. He rolled onto his back, blinked once, then slowly sat up blinking again, his hair awry. Jim couldn’t help but smile a bit. Seemed Spock was a bit slow after waking. It was very human. “Morning.”

Sleep left his eyes, and his posture quickly corrected itself at the sound of Jim’s voice. “Mr. Kirk,” he said stiffly. It wasn’t quite emotionless but rather laced with discomfort.

“Jim, Spock. We’re on vacation,” he said, bringing the coffee he had replicated in the kitchen to his lips.

“Jim…” Spock repeated slowly as if he wasn’t sure whether he should say it or not. “I have overslept.”

“It’s only been,” Jim checked the digital clock on the nightstand. “9ish hours.”

“Vulcans usually require only 4 to 5 hours of sleep.” Spock looked down at himself and poorly hid a grimace. So Spock really was a clean freak, Jim thought amused.

“Well you were tired. How long were you up for anyway?”

“13 days and 18 hours approximately.” Spock got out of the bed as Jim spit his coffee back into his cup.

“You haven’t slept in two weeks!” He asked incredibly, his eyes going wide. “No wonder you looked like shit.”

Spock didn’t dignify that with an answer. He seemed a little unsettled about the whole sleep thing. Jim supposed he should have too, but it was only fair. He had slept in front of Spock once before, it was about time Spock returned the favor.

Spock stepped into the bathroom to wash, leaving Jim alone once again. Jim took the time to open the curtains in the bedroom and then in the living area. While coffee tasted delicious, his stomach was grumbling. Eying the pans, he grinned. It had been a while since he cooked, and the kitchen was fully stocked….

By the time Spock came out, Jim had already cooked a lot of food. The air was permeating the smell of cooked bacon and sausage, there was a large stack of pancakes with a jug of syrup beside it, there was a pitcher of apple juice and orange juice and currently, he was chopping up various fruits and putting them into a large bowl.

“Took you a while,” Jim commented, noting Spock was in clean clothes. “Have a seat.”

“While I had the available time, I decided to meditate,” was Spock’s only reply, glancing wearily at the food.

Jim placed four pancakes, a small plate of butter, a small bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of Spock. Spock raised an eyebrow at the fair. “You should be able to eat it, right? No meat and nothing super sweet. The fruits are on the more bitter side.”

“And you pay attention to my eating habits, Mr. Kirk?”

“I’ve been forced to watch you eat a lot. I picked up some things.” Jim’s plate on the other hand contained everything Spock had plus a mound of meat and syrup drenched on his pancakes and apple juice instead of orange.

“I was unaware you could cook,” Spock stated, staring at the food. Finally, Spock picked up his fork. Jim wasn’t offended by his hesitance. He was the same way. Spock must have concluded that it would be illogical for Jim to poison him when he could have easily killed him in his sleep.

“Couldn’t afford a replicator, and I’ve had to learn to cook things found in the trash. I’m not too bad if I do say so myself. Does help most of the ingredients are fresh instead of replicated. Only the fruits are fake.” Spearing a sausage, he shoved it into his mouth. “Damn, should have made eggs too.”

Cutting into the pancakes, Spock eyed the triangle with a curiosity. Then he took a bite. His eyes widened fractionally. “Fascinating.”

“What, never had a pancake before?” Jim grinned.

“This is my first time,” Spock admitted, smearing on butter this time. “It is satisfactory.”

“Coming from anyone else, I’d consider that an insult,” he laughed. “But since it’s you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Spock just took another bite.

“So, do you have to mediate every day?” Jim asked. Spock was slowly relaxing in his presence. His rigid posture slouching just slightly and his stoic mask letting those hints of emotions slip.

His question however put Spock slightly on edge, but not enough to keep him from eating. “It is necessary to keep control of my telepathy and mental controls.”

“You mean your emotions,” Jim said, tilting his head a bit in thought. “Then why where you melding with Serik? Why would you hurt him like that?”

Spock placed his fork down and narrowed his eyes at Kirk. “Is there a point to this line of questioning Mr. Kirk?”

“Just curious. You told me what Serik means to you, yet you melded with him. Meaning either you hate Serik or melding isn’t what I think it is.”

“If you are so curious, I could let you experience it for yourself.”

Fear rushed through Jim at the suggestion, the image of those broken men flashing in his mind. Last night, Spock had brushed against those spots on his face and he had flinched away. Granted the Vulcan was wearing his gloves, but the fear had still been there. Had Spock try to meld with him last night? Sure, he intentionally pissed off Spock, but not enough to hate him, right?

An awkward silence filled the table as they ate. Jim got up for seconds, starting to wonder how he was going to get his room key from Scotty or Bones with just a robe. That would open up another set of questions he didn’t really want to get into. Bones would demand where he went last night, and Scotty would question him about inviting Spock and insinuate that he was getting too involved. He knew what he was doing.

Then there was figuring out what he wanted to do. He never had a chance to explore a planet before. There was so much he could do, he didn’t know where to start.

“There is a cultural exhibit at the museum a mere 1.3 kilometers from this hotel which I will be attending. You are free to accompany me.”

Surprised, Jim paused in the middle of chewing on some bacon to stare.

“You invited me to an activity. Logically, it is only appropriate that I invite you to one, correct?”

Pushing the rest of the bacon he was gnawing on into his mouth, he answered. “You hated the club.”

“That is correct.”

Chuckling, he leaned back in his seat. “Sure, why not.” It sounded boring, and Jim rather explore on his own, but he decided he owed Spock one for last night. “You’ll have to talk to Scotty to get me my clothes though.” Jim shrugged off the robe. “As much fun as it is walking around in the nude, I don’t think Risa will allow public indecency. At least not inside a museum.”

Spock’s eyes roamed over his body, and Jim swore he saw approval in them. “I suspect the museum wouldn’t allow you to walk around without the appropriate attire. Neither would I.”

“Why not? Jealous everyone might want a piece of this?”

The look in Spock’s eyes sent a shiver down Jim’s spine. “There is no reason to be jealous.” Reaching over the table, Spock touched the large hickey on Jim’s clavicle as if it was statement enough of his claim. Dropping his hand, Spock suddenly stood. “I require more meditation. I will have your bags sent up to the room.”

Jim let him go without a word, watching the way Spock quickly left the room. Meditation huh. He could still feel Spock’s touch on his skin, and his fingers grazed the place Spock had touched moments before. Maybe he should take one more shower. A cold one this time.

* * *

 

Jim’s clothes were delivered within the hour. Jim was half expecting Bones to track him down with the clothes but thankfully the bag came with a disgruntled employee. Searching through its contents, Jim picked out a muscle shirt and board shorts. He may have been going to a museum, but he did plan to wander around the stalls at some point too, maybe even go to the beach.

Spock was wearing a similar outfit to what he had worn at the club except this time gray in color. “Don’t you have anything else?”

Spock glanced down at his outfit. “It is functional for today’s activities.”

Jim rolled his eyes. There was no point in arguing. Spock was a stubborn one.

He let Spock lead the way, trailing behind him and taking in the sights in the day. It was more crowded than it had been at night. Children holding their parents’ hand, couples wrapped around each other as they walked, friends laughing and getting rowdy. Normal people living normal lives. His eyes drifted to Spock’s back. Holding hands with Spock was a laughable idea, and he never planned to have kids. His life was too fucked up for normal.

Spock slowed his pace, walking beside Kirk as they neared the museum. “Does this planet not please you?”

Jim shrugged, watching a mother try to comfort her child. “It’s strange. The difference between people who have money to afford this and people who don’t. They aren’t Starfleet, slaves, or poverty stricken morons. It’s something I’ve never really seen.”

“It is….an unusual sight.”

Jim smirked, nudging his side. “What? Sovik and Serik never tried to set you up on a play date with a neighbor kid?”

He meant it as a joke, but Spock was looking at a family, a mother holding her child as she cleaned off the child’s face with a napkin. “Sovik and Serik are bodyguards and taught me the Vulcan teachings.” Spock paused for a split second to avoid colliding into two children running across their path. “Vulcans do not engage in human concepts such as playmates.”

“About that, I’ve been meaning to ask. Who took care of you before them? You said they didn’t start taking care of you until you were three, right?”

Spock didn’t answer and silence fell over them as they continued to the museum. He supposed it was only natural. It wasn’t like he was very forth coming with important details about his personal life either. Not on purpose anyway.

Just as they were about to climb up the stairs to the museum, Spock stopped once again at the base. “My father raised me.” Somehow, that single sentence carried more weight than anything Spock had uttered previously. More emotion yet so cold. He offered nothing else, letting that statement be his last and ascended the stairs.

Jim followed him.

 On the ship, he never really had a chance to see Spock at work. Not in his element that is. Sure, he watched him command on the bridge and do paperwork a countless number of times, but he was never allowed in the labs. He waited outside the door. So seeing Spock accumulate new information, dissect it, and come up with his own theories was …fascinating.

The Vulcan was tight lipped in the beginning, most likely due to the personal questioning Jim had forced on him earlier, but soon enough, Spock had become engrossed. Specifically, in the evolution exhibit. Spock’s eyes lit up with curiosity. He talked about theories and inaccuracies all to Jim. Spock’s even cadence picked up the pace in his excitement as his scientific mind went to work.

It was kind of adorable, watching the normally stoic Vulcan become excited about something. Enough so that even being unable to offer legitimate thoughts and theories on the topics didn’t bother Jim too much. Despite being unable, Spock continued to share with him, using him like a soundboard to bounce his ideas and theories.

Spock was a ruthless killer. He commanded with an iron fist, his mere presence demanded respect, and he expected perfection from himself and of those he commanded, yet here, Jim could see glimpses of a side Spock didn’t show, a childish curiosity eager to learn. A curiosity that matched his own. It was a shame Jim didn’t have the same enthusiasm on the material though. Science itself bored him to a degree. While engineering was fun, evolution and culture progression was not his cup of tea. Within the first five minutes, he had grown bored of the museum and instead directed his focus on Spock.

They slowly, very slowly much to Jim’s agony, made their way through the museum. Spock would spend 5-20 minutes on each exhibit and sometimes Jim would wander several exhibits down unable to sit still any longer looking at yet another sword or old fashioned gun. It was during one of these times that he had wandered away, a young woman, a betazoid, came up to Spock and started talking to him.

Seeing her put Jim on edge, but it was clear, after overhearing them for a couple minutes from a distance and making sure that Spock was on his guard as well, that she was just talking to him about the exhibits. She was a historian on Gamma Alpha II and had come to Risa to deliver and research new items found in a dig. Spock asked questions, and she answered them full heartedly, happy to find a kindred spirit among the throng of tourists. Spock didn’t let his guard down the entire time, but he was interested in what she had to say.

So Jim let him be, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, glad that Spock had found someone to relate to in this small adventure. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another commentary on how Risa firearms were similar to the development of Earth firearms and the probability that both cultures would develop the same concept around identical time periods. Interesting topic, but not practical in usage for real life. He was content watching Spock from afar until he was ready to leave.

“You look as bored as I feel.”

Jim smirked a little at that and turned his head a bit to address the person who had spoken. An Orion male, wearing little else besides a pair of tight fitting black, leather pants, and body piercings, a hoop piercing for each nipple and several piercings on both his ears. His head was shaved bald, and he appeared to have a metal implant on the left side of his head, but what stood out the most was the slave collar around his neck. “Well you know how it is, the master does what the master wants, and you have to sit there and take it. Not like you can just get up and leave whenever you feel like it.”

The Orion frowned, glancing at Jim’s neck and wrists. “You’re a slave too?”

“Yes and no. Officially yes. I was bought from the arena off of the Terran moon colony.”

The Orion nodded in understanding. “Your clothes would denote otherwise, but years of servitude is hard to erase.” The Orion brought up his hand to touch Jim’s neck who stilled instantly. Jim knew what he was pointing at. Skin regeneration was a great thing, but years of chaffing from cuffs and chains never completely faded. Jim’s skin was still slightly discolored from where they once were.

Jim swiped away the hand and went back to guarding Spock, noting the Vulcan’s eyes were now on him as he spoke to the Betazoid woman.  “What about you? Where’s your master?”

“Talking to your master apparently.” The Orion had followed Jim’s gaze, instantly picking up who Jim was with. “Though I must say that, he does not look at you like a slave.”

Jim didn’t comment. Unsure where this conversation was going.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell your little secret,” the Orion leaned on the wall next to Jim. “My mistress and I have the same relationship. I was a pleasure slave, as most Orions are since being conquered by the Terran empire, until she bought me. She said when she was with me, she felt tranquility. My slave status is in name only to her.”

“A bit of an exposition dump, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” the Orion chuckled. “Still, a Vulcan. What I wouldn’t give to pleasure one of those again. Lucky bastard.”

That caught Jim’s interest. “What do you mean by that?”

“As if you don’t know.”

“Pretend that I don’t.”

The Orion frowned then looked at Spock who was still staring. “Does he wear those gloves all the time?”

“Why? Is it weird?” Jim frowned this time. All the Vulcans he had seen thus far, even the dignitaries, had warn gloves. The only time they hadn’t was when they were melding with people or the few times he saw Spock in the gym. He had assumed it was normal for the species.

The Orion’s eyes lit up with amusement as if he was privy to some secret Jim was unaware of. Then slowly, he leaned forward and whispered into Jim’s ear.

As the human listened, his eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You serious?” he whispered.

“Among other things,” the Orion said, leaning back just as Spock approached them with a rather dark look on his face.

“I see you’ve made a new acquaintance, Mr. Kirk.”

The Orion properly kept his head down even as his mistress approached them as well. “I apologize for my rude behavior,” he said politely as a properly trained slave would. “I was just inquiring if Mr. Kirk would enjoy surfing this afternoon. I was to teach my mistress and thought she would enjoy another beginner joining her.”

It was a smooth lie, Jim thought. The Betazoid wouldn’t call her slave out on the lie if their relationship really was what he said, and it was safe to assume that Jim never went surfing either if he was a slave as well.

Jim smiled at Spock who still seemed stiff and unmoving. “If you don’t mind Spock, I’m going to take him up on his offer. As much fun as this museum is, I’d like to actually enjoy some time outside. As long as you don’t need me for anything of course.”

“I will join you. I have successfully examined every exhibit currently of interest to me. I no longer have reason to stay,” Spock replied.

The Orion may have kept his eyes down, but Jim swore the man was smug for some reason.

The Betazoid, who later Jim found out was named Danna, and the Orion named Thelev led the way to the beach. Interestingly enough, Danna, did actually have beach gear with her, so there had been some truth to what Thelev had said. It was always their intention to go to the beach that day.

The difference between Thelev’s status and Jim’s status was clear though. Thelev always kept two steps behind his master, eyes lowered, speaking only when spoken too. Thankfully, Jim never really had to be a house or pleasure slave. In the arena, the only protocol a slave had to follow were related to fighting. Line up. Show your hands. Go fight. Basic commands even a child could follow. Even now as a personal slave, Spock never enforced specific behaviors. Spock treated him as he treated Sovik and Serik and expected him to follow as such. Hell, Spock took his ideas and strategies into account, not even reprimanding him for speaking out of turn. Spock took him seriously. Almost as an equal even if there were times Spock held his position over his head when Jim became exceptionally annoying or trying. Thelev obviously hadn’t had the same freedoms.

As Jim didn’t have a swimsuit, he just kept his board shorts on and stripped out of his shirt. He felt the eyes of both Thelev and Spock on him as he did so. Well he couldn’t blame Thelev too much. He had one hell of a night. And he sure didn’t regret a single minute of it.

“I shall rent the surfboards,” Thelev said excusing himself, bowing slightly to Spock then to his mistress.

“I’ll help you. Are you sure you don’t wish to join us, Mr. Spock?” Danna asked, pulling off her own clothes to reveal a modest one piece. “It will be a lot of fun.”

“I am content in waiting on the beach.”

Jim gave a small snort. If he was just going to wait on the beach, Jim didn’t understand why he would come.  Taking a few steps into the surf, he grinned. The water was clear, and he could see the small fish swimming around his feet, one even attempting to nibble on his toes.

He turned to call Spock over only to see the Vulcan sitting on the sand in his full garb. He looked so out of place compared to those around him. Everyone else was dressed in swimsuits or summer wear, their hair covered in sand and their skin tanning under the bright sun. Then there was Spock, fully clothed and perfectly groomed. Spock probably didn’t even like water. He probably came for the sun and heat. Spock raised his eyebrow at his scrutiny in which Jim responded with a smirk before falling into the ocean.

He came up laughing, ignoring the sting in his eyes from the salt. Reality seemed so far away. There was no Starfleet. No responsibilities. Even when Thelev came back with the surf boards and the all too familiar collar came back to view, it didn’t put a damper on his mood. Especially when Thelev took the lead in teaching him how to surf. Shaking off his more submissive behavior towards his mistress, he helped them learn the basics, paying more attention towards Danna in the beginning until she decided to take a rest on the beach with Spock.

Jim on the other hand had taken a knack for the sport. He had at least graduated to standing, though he usually wiped out seconds later. Thelev was patient with him, instructing him with a flirty smile that he returned. It really didn’t mean anything. Thelev was just a natural flirt, but it was mostly harmless. He didn’t set Jim’s instincts on edge when he made a flirty comment or when he offered his hand to help Jim back on his board after being knocked over by a wave.

“With more practice, you might actually be able to ride a wave.”

“I don’t think I’ll get much more practice than this. Who knows when’s the next time I’m going to get a chance to actually practice.” Carefully, Jim laid down on his stomach.

With a mischievous smile, Thelev flipped his board, causing Jim to fall back into the ocean. An undignified squeak left Jim’s mouth as he fell with a large splash. He came up spewing ocean water and scowling. “Really?”

“I just hastened your wipeout, that’s all.”

Without another word, Jim skillfully flipped Thelev’s board before the Orion could respond. “Oops.”

Thelev came up, spitting water in his face. The attack took Jim by surprise, allowing Thelev to take advantage of the opening, grabbing him from behind, a strong arm holding him in place just above his hips. It was an easy hold to break, and Jim was in the position to break free while countering if he had any intention to. Thelev was playing around and there was no strength in his movements, making his antics well known that there was no threat to him which Jim was thankful for. Thelev was forward and touchy, yet still submissive enough to keep Jim from putting his fist to Thelev’s face. Jim wasn’t unguarded but he could say he was relaxed enough to allow it. He even laughed and threw the Orion over his shoulder into the water.

He was in the middle of reaching for his board when he saw Spock on the beach, walking away. It was for a second he caught the look on Spock’s face. Barely contained rage. Danna wasn’t even nearby, so she couldn’t have upset him. Was it him?

“Hey, Thelev, I got to go.”

“Alright.” the Orion took Jim’s board. “Remember what I said,” he added sending him a perverted smile.

A bit confused, Jim waded out of the water, picked up his discarded shirt and shoes and attempted to follow Spock. Attempted being the choice word. Once he hit the boardwalk, he had lost sight of the Vulcan, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know where Spock would eventually end up. Across the boardwalk, through the vendors, and to the line of buildings, he went inside their hotel and slipped into an elevator whose doors were just closing, punching the penthouse button.

The ascent felt like an eternity. The doors were barely open before Jim stepped off. Just in time too, Spock was opening the door to their room. “Spock!” he called out, irritated he was chasing the Vulcan rather than continuing his surf lessons with Thelev.

At the sound of his voice, Spock’s back tensed and the captain seemed to quicken his pace in closing the door behind him, but Jim was too fast, catching the door with his foot and pushing it open. “What the hell was that Spock?” he asked stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him. “Were you going to leave without saying anything?”

“I was merely giving you privacy with Mr. Thelev that you desired.”

“What?” Spock still had his back turned to him, and it was starting to piss him off. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Thelev is quite like the human I separated you from yesterday. I was unaware that was your preference. They are quite the contrast from Janice Rand, Janice Lester, and Nyota Uhura who you have tried to pursue.”

Jim was outright frowning now, his teeth baring, “Calling me a slut, Spock?”

Spock turned around, his face cold and eyes condescending as if he was better in every way and incapable of fault. “I am merely stating objective facts, Mr. Kirk, that you will proposition and court any being into your bed if they appeal to you and act on your desires with little thought, disregarding our agreement so that you may prostrate yourself in a most undignified fashion.”

“And what does that make you then, Mr. Spock,” he spat, clenching his fists. “For you to want to fuck this ‘undignified slut’, cause you sure as hell didn’t care last night when you practically dragged me off and fucked my ass raw last night.” Spock didn’t budge, and it just made Jim’s anger grow. “In fact, if your so pissed about it, why don’t you kick me out right now? Why do you care who I sleep with? This stupid agreement that we have, it’s temporary.” He swore he saw Spock’s hand clench at that. “We aren’t lovers. We’re barely even fuck buddies. So stop acting like some jealous boyfriend. You aren’t my first lay Spock, and you sure as hell won’t be my last. I’m sure the same goes for you.”

It was that last sentence that got Jim’s attention. Spock looked away, too quickly for it to be natural. Forgetting his ire, for a brief moment, Jim went over what he said in his head. “Don’t tell me you want me to be your last.”

Spock didn’t answer, but there wasn’t a reaction either. So that wasn’t it. Thinking a bit longer, he remembered McCoy’s comments about Spock’s sex life before they started sleeping together. But it couldn’t be. It was impossible. “Was I…your first time?”

Spock turned away completely, but not before green dusted the tips of his ears. No, seriously. It just wasn’t possible, and yet…it made so much sense.

A perverted and mischievous Cheshire grin made its way on Jim’s face like a cat that caught the canary. “That’s why you never let me touch you. You’re nervous. It’s easier for you to stay in control than let your partner pleasure you and let your control slip.  And why the first couple times it was so rough. You had never had sex before and couldn’t properly control your strength.”

“Mindless speculation will not get you─”

“I think we’re past mindless speculation, Mr. Spock.” Jim had gotten closer to Spock while he had worked out everything aloud for Spock to hear. “I had heard, but I didn’t believe, you were just so good at it back then, I didn’t even realize it’s nothing compared to your skill now that you have some experience. You learned quite a bit from this slut haven’t you?” Jim’s hand barely touched Spock’s shoulder when Spock gripped it tightly, pulling it away from his person as he turned to Vulcan glare at Jim.

“If you believe that I will continue our agreement after your transgressions, you are misinformed.”

“Come on, Spock,” with a flick of his tongue, wetting his bottom lip, Jim watched the Vulcan’s eyes follow the wet muscle. “Not once have you let me touch you, pleasure you. At least let me show you what you should be jealous of.”

There was lust in Spock’s eyes, but hesitance as well. Mutual sex took trust to some degree. Jim had trusted Spock not to kill him since they started, but Spock had never extended the same amount of trust. Always binding him, always in control. If Jim had to compare that hesitance, it was the same he would see on a virgin’s face, unsure yet eager to find out what sex could bring. Spock just needed a good push in the right direction.

Letting Spock keep his hand captive, he took a step forward, erasing the distance between them. His wet lips and body pressed against Spock, dampening his clothes with ocean water and sapping the warmth from Spock, forcing the Vulcan to suppress a shiver. Jim’s lips brushed Spock’s neck teasingly. “Give me control, Spock. I promise you’ll really enjoy it.”

It was hard to make out what expression Spock was making with Jim’s face so close, but Spock’s cheeks were definitely flushed this time. Slowly, Jim pulled his hand away from Spock’s grip, smiling at the Vulcan’s cooperative behavior. He still had a hard time accepting that he was Spock’s first, but he’d treat Spock well. Take it slow with him. He slowly pulled him into the bedroom, and Spock didn’t resist. He wanted to see Spock become undone. Everything else could wait.

* * *

 

Spock was asleep. He must have still been tired after the long two weeks, and his unusually long sleep the night before probably hadn’t helped completely. With soft breaths and still lightly flushed cheeks, Spock curled around Jim more. It was kind of cute, and Jim wished he could indulge in it. However, there was a much more pressing matter.

Jim removed Spock’s arms from his body, avoiding the bare skin of his hands from touching him. Thelev had been right, Spock’s hands were super sensitive and easily made the Vulcan putty in his hands. He had been wary about taking off Spock’s gloves, but he had wanted to see more.

He had wrote off Spock’s first attempt to meld with him in the elevator yesterday as just his imagination and paranoia, he had been occupied after all, but he couldn’t now. Spock’s attempt had been obvious, and he wasn’t even sure Spock realized he had tried, like it was natural for him to, an instinct.

What scared Jim though wasn’t the attempted mind meld.  It was his own behavior. Wanting to please Spock, finding the Vulcan’s innocent jealousy appealing, wanting to draw Spock’s attention to him constantly, always looking for him. He couldn’t even begin to wonder why he hadn’t ignored Spock on the beach. Surfing had been fun, and there was a slim chance of having another chance in the future. Seeing Spock walk away, he followed without another thought. Understanding why Spock never let Jim touch him, he wanted to change that, be the first and for a short time, be the last.

Taking a quick shower to get off the cum, ocean water, and remaining sand, he got dressed and picked up his bag. He was attached. He wanted something from Spock and had no idea what. Things were different now. There were a few people, women, who would sleep with him now. He had networked and mostly shrugged off his father’s name. He didn’t have to keep going to Spock for pleasure. He didn’t have to keep submitting to a man. But he wanted to. Even dominating Spock just then, he decided to ride Spock rather than take the opportunity to take him because he knew Spock wasn’t ready for it, wasn’t and wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

Jim left the hotel room and stepped on the elevator, heading to the fifth floor. The sight of a sleeping Spock was still in his mind, guard lowered and completely vulnerable. He would contact the twins to let them know Spock needed them.

This. This was temporary. This wanting to assure Spock of his loyalty, those sweet nothings he had whispered into his ear, it was all lies. He wouldn’t throw away everything for something he didn’t understand.

He knocked on the hotel room’s floor and a couple minutes later a grumpy, obviously just awoken McCoy answered the door. So, until he did understand, he would stop. He would stay away. Until whatever he was feeling went away too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have hope, I might actually write out this sex scene in the near future because this is a turning point in their relationship, specifically for Jim. But I will clarify what happened in that cut out scene. As an added bonus, I will add the cut out sex scene from the chapter 17 (you can be reminded why I cut it out in the first place -.-') for 2 days only before I take it back down out of embarrassment.
> 
> So to start with, when Jim mentioned stating his loyalty to Spock coming off the elevator, Jim was referring to whispering to Spock that he never slept Janice as he pleasured him. Second, what Jim meant about innocent jealousy. It's kind of the lore of never forgetting your first time, how you're always kind of attached to that person. He's assuming Spock's jealous because Jim was his first time and became attached to that rather than having any actual feelings for him. Also, if you've noticed, Jim's in complete denial about everything. 
> 
> I'm sorry for any spelling errors. Please let me know! I read the last chapter and found so many that I missed. Anyway, comment and kudos please.


	23. Emotional Rollercoaster Ride: Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm late again. I think my writing is getting repetitive so I was hesitant to update. Sorry. Another talking heavy chapter. Sorry, no action this round. Please wait for the next two for that.

He was cold. So cold. Not physically, though he did feel a shiver go through his body from the cool air, but in his mind. It was so dark. And empty. Where was the warmth? The light?

Spock’s eyes fluttered open. He was lying on his side, his bare hands coming into view. That was right, he allowed Jim to take off his gloves. Calculating the amount of time that had passed, he sat up, listening for any movement. He didn’t hear anyone moving around in the penthouse. He was alone.

His gloves were neatly placed on the nightstand and easily within his reach. A unsettling thought flitted through his mind. He didn’t want to put them on. Disturbed by the illogical desire, he put them on.

The space beside him had long gone cold, meaning Jim had left the bed long before his awakening. That was fine. He had interrupted the human’s vacation already, and it was better to be alone in order to have a proper meditation session. He had put it off for too long.

After a quick shower, he settled on the floor at the foot of the bed, facing the window, slipping into a meditative trance. His shields were a mess. The short session he had done early that morning had contained the majority of the damage, but insufficient for long term use. Deconstructing his shields and building them from scratch, it was late in the evening by the time he had finished ordering his mind.

Leaving the room, he realized the maid had come while they were gone to clean up the kitchen area. He hadn’t noticed when he had originally returned. It was slightly concerning that he was distracted to the point of missing such a detail. The doorbell rang followed by the door opening. Spock reached for the stage 1 phaser hidden in his clothes only to ease his hand away at the sight of Serik. “Serik, I was unaware that you were on planet.”

“Mr. Kirk informed me that he was going to ‘go out on the town’ with Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott, and you would not be joining him. Therefore, he requested that I take over his duties. I found no reason to refuse as we did inform him he could utilize his shore leave as he wished.”

“Is Sovik on planet as well?” Spock asked, seating himself at the dining room table where his PADD laid.

“No, sir. He stayed on ship to oversee the crew operations.”

“I see,” Spock activated his PADD, pulling up the Lester report. “You are overseeing the Lester case, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

Spock knitted his eyebrows together. “I was informed that it was deemed a self-defense case; however, according to Sovik’s report, you are still investigating him. Is there a reason?”

Serik remained standing rather than taking a seat at the table with him. Spock should not have expected him to behave any differently. “Sovik believes there was alternative motives for Lieutenant Lester’s demise.”

“I did not see evidence supporting that claim,” Spock said, bringing up the report. “In contrary, the evidence stacks in Mr. Kirk’s defense.”

“I too agree that the there is no evidence; however, Sovik is rarely mistaken about situations like this. When he believes something, I am inclined to believe it as well.”

“His psi rating is high even for a Vulcan,” Spock agreed. “But I do not consider feelings and speculation as evidence.”

“Yes, captain.”

“I do however believe in Sovik’s observations. If he believes there is more to Kirk’s behavior than just self-defense, I too am inclined to believe it. What measures have you have taken?”

“Kirk’s room has been thoroughly searched as well as Lester’s. Nothing out of the ordinary was found. The items Lester stole and her PADD are yet to be accounted for. We have been keeping an eye on Kirk, but all reports have shown normal behavior. Ship cameras have shown nothing out of the ordinary either. I ordered the standard security measures as well.”

“It won’t be enough,” Spock said, reading over the report, thoroughly this time. No, the standard approach wouldn’t be enough. Kirk was too smart for that. If Kirk was up to something, he would be more cunning about his plans. Only if he was up to something. A small part of him wanted to believe the human. Trust him.

But trust was not a luxury he could afford. And Kirk was and could be a threat. “I will take over the investigation.  While your steps would prove effective on a normal opponent, Mr. Kirk is not normal. If he truly is planning something, then he will have already accounted for your actions and have adjusted accordingly.”

“That is a high compliment to give to a human.”

Spock looked up from his PADD with indifference. “You have never defeated me in chess.”

Serik raised an eyebrow. “Are you insinuating that he has?”

“On more than one occasion.” With a swipe of his hand, Spock brought up the evidence in greater detail. “If you underestimate him, he will not hesitate to use or kill you.”

“You claim he is dangerous, yet you keep him close. Is that wise?”

“No. It is not,” he answered without hesitation. His eyes looked at his gloved fingers. He could still feel the warmth of Jim’s mouth, the feel of Jim’s skin. He had never predicted he would take off his gloves for another unless it was during his pon farr. The thought of surrendering himself to pleasure, to let go of control and hand it to another willingly had never once crossed his mind as possible. He was unsure of what to make of this change. What it could cost or gain him.

“You have not yet recovered from the physical and mental strain of the past two weeks, and are in need for more meditation. Shall I join you?”

“I am adequate,” Spock responded, pulling out his communicator.

“As you wish,” Serik bowed his head.

Spock shot him a glance. “Spock to Enterprise. Prepare the transporter. I will be beaming up in exactly ten minutes.” He received confirmation for his request immediately. It was best to return. He did not wish to impede Jim’s vacation further, and with the slave preoccupied on planet, it would allow him to lead the investigation himself undistracted.

He could imagine what Jim would do. Getting drunk with the doctor, browsing electronic stores with Mr. Scott. With Jim’s reassuring words last night, he almost believed what he said. He would honor their agreement. He wouldn’t go to anyone else. He almost smiled. Almost.

“Inform Mr. Kirk of my departure. I will meet you in meeting room A when you return.”

“Yes sir.”

Spock packed his bags as Serik left to do as he asked. He was 83.9 percent sure Kirk would check out. He detected no malice from him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He felt something from him. An emotion he was not quite familiar with that mirrored his own uncertainty. He felt his lips twitch upwards into a very small smile. He would see Jim soon.

* * *

McCoy surprisingly didn’t ask too many questions when he had shown up at his doorstep. He glanced him over, hypoed him and left it at that. Perhaps it was because the doctor wanted to avoid fighting over his sex life yet again, but either way, Jim was grateful. He didn’t really want to talk what had happened.

Two days had passed since he had arrived at McCoy’s room to receive his room key. Whatever the doctor wanted to do, Jim agreed with a fake smile, listening to whatever he said in an effort to not think. Granted, his compliance earned him worried looks, but he played it off with a laugh and another pint of beer.

He had thought Spock would have looked for him after waking, but instead Serik tracked him and told him that Spock had returned to the ship.  He was both relieved and annoyed about that. But with Spock’s departure, a part of him was having difficulties enjoying the rest of his vacation, his mind too clouded with unwanted thoughts.

So now here he was, dragged to a dive bar by McCoy, Scotty was who knows where, and steadily making their way through the various liquors. Jim was still on his second glass, getting lost in his thoughts and responding to McCoy when appropriate.

With a loud exaggerated sigh, McCoy turned his body so he could face Jim properly. “You know kid, I can only beat around the bush for so long. What’s got your panties in a twist? You should enjoy your vacation while you have it.”

Scratching into the wooden table with knife absentmindedly, Jim glanced up at the doctor. Worry and concern was in the older man’s eyes. He didn’t think he would ever get used to those looks from another human being. “Hey, Bones…why did you get married?”

Taken back by the question, the doctor nearly dropped the bread roll he was gnawing on. “Why does anyone get married? A moment of insanity.”

“I see,” he responded then slouched in his chair.

Dr. McCoy leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his face. “I was young. 24 years old when I met her. I had been in medical school for two years and was thinking of taking my final exams early. I was in the library almost every day studying. She worked part time in the attached café and would watch me.  At first I barely paid attention to her, but one day, she came to my little desk and gave me some coffee, on the house.

“No one had ever done something like that before. She didn’t ask me out, she didn’t stay to talk, she just gave me the cup, wished me luck, and went back to work. I got curious. The moment I passed my exams, I went to ask her out, to see what her game was. She accepted of course.” The doctor’s face softened with nostalgia, a smile on his lips. “She was sweet, kind, and full of life. I fell in love instantly and married her a few months later.”

He took a shot of alcohol as if he couldn’t continue without it. “I started my residence soon after. With the long hours and being so delirious in love, I didn’t notice the early signs of mental deterioration. I didn’t want to see it. I kept telling myself she was fine, didn’t push her to get medical attention. Having to deal with her pregnancy mostly alone didn’t help. She just kept spiraling down. By the time I accepted that she was sick, she had already drowned my little girl and took her life in depression and guilt for what she had done.” He smiled bitterly. “I was serving on the Farragut for my first tour and had just come to the decision to make her get help when the captain called me to his quarters and told me the news.”

Bones took away Jim’s drink, forcing  the younger man to pay attention to him. “We’re human, kid. We aren’t made of stone. We feel even if we don’t want to because we aren’t meant to live alone. Even now, I still love her, and I blame myself for what happened. To both of them.”

Jim was silent. With a shaky grin, he pulled away the drink Bones had been working on. “Nice life story, but I didn’t ask for it. I was just curious.” He chugged down the beer to the last drop. “It just proves only idiots fall in love.”

The expression he received in return was a sad one, and Jim pretended with all his might he didn’t see it. Bones cherished his daughter, yet still loved the woman who took her from his world. He couldn’t understand how he could forgive her for that. It only proved that love was a weakness.

“I’m going to head to bed, Jim. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The doctor patted his shoulder and shuffled off.

“Night Bones,” he muttered.

Why did he even ask about Bone’s marriage? All he did was rub salt into the older man’s wounds. His head dropped to the table, and he groaned. Four more days, and he’d have to see Spock again. He hoped that whatever he was feeling or thinking would vanish by then, but as the day drew closer, he wasn’t so sure if that was possible anymore.

* * *

The rest of the week had gone by with little difficulties. With majority of the ship enjoying shore leave, it was quiet and activity was low. Spock even had time to go to the labs and start three experiments he had planned out over the course of his captaincy. The results were also within his hypothesis. Meditation was easier and the quiet ship was easy on his shields. His days had been optimal, and he was finally relaxing as much as he could on a ship full of scheming murders.

As for the investigation into Kirk’s activities, there was little to be found. Jim had spoken to the crew occasionally, all who he had met due to his work.  In fact, the video of Kirk going out of his way to meet Lester was the only thing out of the ordinary. There had been no inquiries made on Kirk’s behalf about her and there had been no searches using the ships computer for or about her either. Besides Kirk’s initial interaction with her, she was the one who sought him out. In contrast, her behavior was the one that was suspicious. It came off as borderline stalkerish.

There was one time Jim brought her back to his room, the same night he approached her. She was in his room too long for it to have been a short chat and her lipstick was smeared when she left. Which would support Sovik’s theory of the human sleeping with her, but he never approached her again. She came to him. The hospital bay and the hallway. Kirk didn’t push her away, but he didn’t look pleased either. Spock recognized the fake smile he tended to put on to handle others, something Jim didn’t really bother to use with Spock as of late. It wasn’t until Sovik’s appearance where Kirk seemed to take advantage of the compromising position and provoke him. It was because of this that Spock was inclined to believe Jim. The human loved to provoke and mislead people. Like a game. He got off on the adrenaline and gambling with his life.

It was Lester’s frequent visits to Jim’s room while he was absent that was cause for concern. There was footage of her leaving with a few of his possessions. Noticeably, his undergarments. Sure enough, when searching her room again, he had located the garments and sent them to the lab for analysis only to confirm that she had used them for her personal pleasure.

The behavior was within her reported character, but it did not ease the feelings he struggled to suppress when he saw Jim kiss her and hold her, or seeing that woman touch what was not hers. Jim had said he did not sleep with her, and he believed that, but that still left the question, why did Kirk associate with her at all? Logically, that meant he was using her for something, yet he couldn’t find anything that would incriminate the human. What was his game?

Naturally, Spock didn’t sweep the investigation under the rug and took the necessary steps. Until that answer was questioned, Jim couldn’t quite be pardoned and would be searched accordingly.

Pushing that aside, he waited for Kirk to come visit him once shore leave ended. He expected to see a jovial, well rested human wanting to play chess with him and perhaps request to engage in intercourse as well. He didn’t come. Nor did he come after shift the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, Jim had practically stopped talking to him all together. He hadn’t noticed at first. Jim had taken his role as bodyguard seriously for a while now and only made the occasional snide remark or joke at the Vulcans’ expense, but by the third day of strictly on task conversation, it had left him confused. Hadn’t Jim been quite interested in him the day before his departure?

The change in Jim’s behavior made him feel unbalanced. On the outside, he remained unmoved and never said a word, keeping his blank mask perfectly in place. On the inside, his mind couldn’t help but search for a reason why. Jim had left his bed first and had not attempted to contact him since. Had he done something?

Spock exhaled louder than intended, drawing both Jim’s and Serik’s attention. Jim looked away soon after, but he felt Serik’s lingering gaze on his back. He should be focusing on the reports in his lap as they made their way to their next destination on the bridge. He was doing the reports, but he wasn’t giving them as much attention they deserved.

Maybe it was what he had said before. Perhaps it was unwise to have called Jim a person unable to control his sexual urges. Humans were known to hold grudges. Maybe he recalled what was said before and was angry about it. If that was the case, then what should he do about it?

Sovik came to relieve Kirk from duty. The human was going to leave without saying anything to him yet again. He could hear his retreating footsteps grow farther and farther away.

“Mr. Kirk,” he said before fully thinking it through. He heard the footsteps come to a stop, waiting for his orders. He didn’t turn around, instead making Jim wait as he typed something in response to a memo. Spock was aware that Kirk knew he could type and hold a conversation flawlessly, but he wanted to make him wait.

“I want you to report to my quarters at 1900. There are important matters we must discuss.”

There was hesitance then a flawless, “Yes, sir.” He was too compliant. Perhaps he really was angry with him.

There was still two hours until his shift ended. Enough time to better consider what he wanted to do about this new dilemma. That’s what he thought anyway.

Those two hours flew by, and Spock still had no idea what he wanted to do. He left both Serik and Sovik outside his quarters and set up the chess set in the living area. He had just settled into a chair with a cup of hot Vulcan tea when Kirk entered, still stoned faced.

Spock gestured to the seat opposite of him, not looking at Kirk yet making it clear it was a command. Jim didn’t move for the chair, loitering near the door. “Sit, Mr. Kirk.” Eventually, he complied.

Without a word, he started the chess game, playing as white. After the initial wait for Kirk to finally take the bait, they played in silence for a short while. “Is there a reason you brought me here?”

Spock moved a rook. “I am dysfunctional for my species.”

The off topic comment had the desired effect, Jim finally looked at him, but he didn’t say anything either, so he continued. “As you know, Vulcans are a telepathic species. We are…were connected. We call it, the collective bond. The ability to feel each other’s existence even if we have never met. In essence, we are never alone in our heads. The collective bond is made through contact. Contact with other Vulcans and proper training of our telepathy. When Vulcan was destroyed, every surviving Vulcan felt the death of the 6.2 billion inhabitants.

“I was only a young child when it happened. The collective bond was there, but I had not yet learned to control my telepathy. Its impact was substantial. To heal such damage, one needs to be around other Vulcans to create ties to fill the void such emptiness leaves. I was not allowed that luxury. Since I was three years old, I had been separated from the colony and my peers. It has left me lacking. I do not have the control I should have nor the ability to effectively correct it.”

Jim moved another piece, looking down at the board.  “Why are you telling me this?”

Spock placed his tea down on the table. “I apologize for what I had said on shore leave. I should not have implied you would seek sexual gratification from anyone. It was another instance of my failings.”

Jim chuckled softly. “I never thought you would apologize. Whatever drugs you’re on, you should give me some.”

“I am not under the influence.” Spock stood, walking over to Kirk. “And I will not allow you to deflect with humor.”

Kirk stood, meeting his eyes. “Deflect from what exactly? You trying to fuck me into the mattress again?”

Why was this human so appealing? Spock brought his hand to Jim’s cheek, caressing it. Whatever resolve the human had was weakening under his touch. “Is that what you wish for?”

Jim remained quiet, just staring into Spock’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but was lost for words. Leaning forward, Spock grazed his lips over Jim’s gently. “Should I take your compliance as a yes?”

The human’s shoulder’s slouched and he leaned into him, letting Spock, pull Jim closer to his body. Whatever was bothering the human, it no longer kept him resisting. His uncharacteristic low energy didn’t deter him from wanting to sleep with him. No, it made him yearn for it more. He wanted to hold him, care for him.

He undressed Jim, then himself, leaving both in only their boxers then gently led Jim to his bed. He pulled Jim onto his lap, kissing him softly. Jim returned the kiss, straddling Spock’s lap. His movements were slow and tender, lacking any of his usual aggression.

Spock broke the kiss, leaving hot, tender, kisses down Jim’s neck. Jim closed his eyes, his lips parted in a silent moan at the attention, slowly rolling his hips. Spock nipped at the tender skin, knowing how easy it would be to break the blood vessels underneath. He wanted to leave evidence of his ownership where everyone on the ship could see. Instead, he carefully shifted them, so he could lay Jim down on the bed with him on top.

Jim had his arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him close. The human buried his face into Spock’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. “Jim,” Spock whispered into his ear.

“Just… give me a moment,” he muttered just as quietly.

Spock pulled away just enough to meet Jim’s eyes. Bringing his hand into view, he bit down on the tip of his gloved middle finger and leisurely pulled off the glove with his teeth. Jim’s breathing hitched as the pale skin came into view inch by inch. Through his skin, he could feel Jim’s anxiety and fear about his newly exposed hand, but he didn’t protest.

The trust Jim placed in him, Spock didn’t wish to betray. He avoided touching Jim’s face all together and instead entwined their hands. His breathing hitched at the pleasurable electrical pulses from the Vulcan kiss.

“I should prepare you,” Spock said, already moving to get the lubricant on the shelf just above his bed.

“No.” Jim’s hold tightened around his neck. “I need to feel you now. Please.”

“As you wish, Jim.” Spock aligned himself with Jim’s entrance, and Jim wrapped his legs around Spock’s waist, urging him not to wait. Spock entered him slowly, not wanting to hurt him.

Sex between them had never been like this. Slow and full of vulnerability between them. It wasn’t lust that made his hips move. It wasn’t the need to possess and own. It was the need to be closer. The desire to hold and comfort.

They came together, neither crying out in pleasure, but with quiet groans muffled in another kiss.

Spock pulled out and careful detangled Jim from his body before lying beside him not particularly eager to move as he had been in the past. He expected Jim to laze about as he always did after sex.

Instead, Jim sat up, reaching for his pants and trying not to appear like he was in any hurry.

“You are leaving,” it was supposed to be a question but came out as a statement.

“Yeah,” was all Jim could really think to say. “I have to get up early tomorrow.” The excuse was so delayed it was hardly believable.

Spock didn’t try to make him stay or say anything to encourage him to change his mind. He had no reason to, nor was he in a position to.

Jim didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He had no idea if he could handle it right now if Spock had tried. There was just too much for him to deal with. Too many emotions he had to sort through. Barely cleaning himself off, he redressed and left, feeling the weight of what he had done pulling him down.

To be vulnerable was to be weak. To be exposed. Sex wasn’t supposed to be gentle and intimate. It was just fucking. That was how it was supposed to be. But now, just now, he felt what he had done was so much more than that. It was closer to the term “making love”.

This wasn’t him. None of this was him. Yet when Spock came up to him, he could not refuse. He wanted Spock. Not for leverage and not just for a good time, and it was scaring the shit out of him. It was getting worse.

With quickened steps, he went to his room, jamming in the code, and locking himself inside as if it would provide protection from the emotions that was starting to consume him. Busy. He had to keep himself busy.

He was fighting off the urge to pace when his doorbell chimed, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. Did Spock follow him back? What would he do if he did? His reaction caused his anger to flare, and he opened the door with and gruff, “What?”

Sulu looked at him in surprise. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Seeing Sulu and not Spock made him feel slightly disappointed which in return raised his agitation. “Yeah. Now, what do you want?”

“Not going to invite me in?”

“Not if your life depended on it.” Jim knew of the cameras in the corridor, and he wouldn’t risk giving the Vulcan duo a chance to incriminate him. “If you don’t want to be scene, speak fast.”

Sulu was struggling to contain his glare, his eyebrow twitching. If the man wasn’t so two faced, Jim might have been mildly amused. “That proposition I brought to you a while back, I was wondering if you were still considering it.”

“Wasn’t that only for Pike?”

Sulu leaned forward, possibly as an intimidation tactic. “I think we both know it wasn’t going to stop there.”

“Yeah, I know, but if I recall,” Jim leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, “I also said not to involve me with your plans involving Spock.”

“I thought maybe I could change your mind.”

“Really?” He drawled. “What exactly can you offer me that will make me change my mind?”

“How about freedom?”

Jim straightened up a bit, urging Sulu on.

“If you work with me, I can guarantee it. I could even make you an officer.”

“A tempting offer.” It really was, but it wasn’t really his style. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You’ve done a lot of thinking. You know what will happen if you betray me to your master don’t you?”

With a dark smirk, Jim leaned forward. “Your threats are empty, Hikaru. Kisama wa ore ni ijimerukoto wo dekinai.”

Sulu finally dropped the fake smile, giving Jim a glare that could freeze fire. “Do you have to switch to Japanese when speaking to me.”

“Naze? Urusai?”

Sulu ground his teeth. “I won’t be patient much longer. You have three days to come to a decision.”

“Three days too many. Now get the fuck out of my doorway.”

With a step back, he let the door shut in Sulu’s face. Sulu would go through on his threat. There was no doubt about that. He’d have to choose a side soon.

Picking up the PADD he had left on the ship, he searched through the data it had collected in his absence. Spock had finally taken control of the investigation. His emails, search history, and PADD contents had been thoroughly searched. His room had been entered and searched again, and the most obvious trademark of Spock’s involvement was the new precautions now in place. His stalkers were now no were to be seen. Instead, bugs were found in their place. He had already searched and found one in his quarters. Audio only. They couldn’t do video without it being somewhat visible to get sight of him. Spock didn’t risk it. Checkov had also warned him that Spock had bugged his PADD to notify Spock of his search history and to tell him if Lester’s PADD becomes active again.

Jim had took the last into account long ago, deactivating Lester’s PADD after getting and memorizing the details on their little side project as soon as possible.

All in all, Spock was blocking his possible movements from now on. Making it difficult to move against him without hitting a tripwire, but it was too late. He didn’t need sound or meetings anymore to carry out his plans.

He took a few steps, stopping in front of his mirror. Lifting his hand, he touched the sides of the mirror. Center. Top left. Bottom middle. Top left.

The mirror soundlessly shifted upwards, revealing a hole in the wall with a monitor and control board. He had to hand it to Janice. She did a wonderful job of installing the system. Even if one removed the mirror, without the password, it would only reveal a smooth wall behind it. Typing in the name into the panel, the monitor awoke, showing said person walking away in a rage. Sulu really didn’t take well to having his plans derailed.

He watched the first officer make a scene, terrorizing his subordinates in his rage before going into his room to work on the reports Spock had assigned him. Whatever Sulu was planning, it wasn’t going to be tonight. Sulu was going to give him the time. For some reason, Sulu was desperate to have him on his side. He had a few ideas why, but Jim had been unable to confirm or deny any of his suspicions, and with Spock strategically moving his pieces now himself, Jim wasn’t sure if it was worth the hassle to find out.

Speaking of the Vulcan, Jim entered Spock’s name, having the screen turn to Spock. He was surprised to have discovered that the Enterprise did in fact have camera access to Spock’s room. He would have thought Pike would have removed them. The tantalus connected to the ship’s computer system, hacking into the personnel locator program that locks onto a specified biosignature then accesses the nearest camera closest to that signature.

Spock’s image appeared on the screen, tucked in his bed with clean clothes and sheets fast asleep. He was utterly defenseless, unknowing that Jim could kill him at any moment he chose. Did Spock even fear death by his hand anymore? Sleeping twice in his presence, no matter how unintentional it may have initially been, spoke volumes.

Jim’s finger grazed over a green button tenderly. He could have still been in that bed with him if he hadn’t walked away. Still be surrounded by strong arms that wouldn’t let him go. If he went back now, would Spock still allow him too?

Clenching his jaw, he touched the mirror, letting it slide back into place. Sleep. That’s what he needed. He would beat this. He slid under the covers, knowing that he was lying to himself. He would either have to learn to embrace it or, more likely, rid himself of the problem.

* * *

Deep breath in. Clear the mind. Focus on a single point. Exhale.

The first stage of meditation was the most important. It set the pace for the rest of the session. If the mind was too cluttered, if one could not detach themselves appropriately, than the session became less effective, leaving one open to loss of emotional control later.

Serik inhaled, ready to slip into the second stage when the doorbell chimed. His internal clock indicated it was late into the ship’s night. No one would come to his room so late. Even Spock would use the intercom or communicator if he was needed. Opening his eyes, he stood, grabbing his phaser off his nightstand before answering. “Enter.”

Sovik stepped through the doorway, still fully dressed, shoulder’s square but head bowed.

Immediate concern coursed through him at the subdued behavior. “Why do you bow your head, dinam?”

“I am troubled by what I must ask of you. It is not my place to speak, and I am conflicted by the duty to obey nu’ri-trensu and my duty the council assigned to us.” Sovik would not look at him.

Serik placed the phaser down unsure of how to proceed with the emotional display. “I do not understand what has you distraught. What do you wish to ask of me that would cause such conflict?”

“I wish for you to convince nu’ri-trensu to return to New Vulcan to complete his pre-marital bond with his intended.”

Normally Serik would raise an eyebrow at the request, but the words coming from his brother’s mouth was heavy and filled with regret. “Nu’ri-trensu has stated that he does not wish to be bonded at this time. We must respect his wishes.”

“Even if it is for his own good?”

Serik closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “I cannot follow your logic Sovik. I do not believe you have applied logic at all to this situation. From what I deduct, it is purely based on your emotions. In addition, why must it be I to tell him when you are fully capable.”

“Because his respect for you exceeds his respect for me and would be more likely to listen to you.”

“Illogical.” Sovik stood his ground on the subject, firm in his decision. Serik exhaled harder than necessary and allowed his shields down just enough to show the tiniest hint of emotion if just to be on a closer wavelength to his brother’s emotional state. “Sovik,” he said quietly. “What is it that you know that drives your passion and stirs your blood? I cannot understand unless you speak.”

Sovik took a step back to put distance between them, turning slightly then turning back as if he wanted to pace and resisting the urge. He looked trapped. Not even Spock had seen him this vulnerable and emotional. What would he say if he knew that he caused such emotions in Sovik.

“I,” Sovik stopped himself, carefully choosing his words. “I do not wish for nu’ri-tresu to repeat Master Sarek’s mistakes, and at his present course, he will if he has not already.”

Serik stilled at the name. No one mentioned Sarek since his death. Not even Spock mentioned his name. “What makes you believe he is on this course, Sovik?”

“His sexual rendezvous…” Sovik trailed off.

“You know,” Serik filled in. “You know who he has been meeting with.”

Sovik could only give a sharp nod.

“Who is the individual, Sovik?”

With hesitation and guilt, Sovik finally told him, “James Kirk.”

It made sense. Painfully so in hindsight. There had been much evidence basically right in front of him, yet it never occurred to him that Kirk was even a candidate in the list of potential partners. The timing of Sovik’s obvious disdain for Kirk and the time Spock started to engage in intercourse was within a day of each other. Sovik had known or speculated since the beginning.

Serik turned away to hide his anger trying desperately to diffuse the emotion. He was Vulcan. He would not allow his emotions to control him.

“I apologize, dinam. If I had not suggested to him that he should indulge in his human biology, this situation would not have come to pass.”

“You could not have predicted the outcome of his actions,” Serik replied, having a resemblance of his control regained. “I will speak to him, but I cannot guarantee he will listen.” With a stiff nod, Sovik quietly turned to leave. Serik could not bring himself to offer a joint meditation session and let him go.

What was done was done. There was no use dwelling on the past. The present was more important. Spock could not be ignorant on how similar the situation was to his father’s. Humans could not be trusted. Spock knew that. Hopefully, with a small reminder, Spock could avoid the same fate as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please no comments on the sex scene. This one was purely about the emotional connection not physical. If you want the detailed sex scene, go to chapter 17. I decided to input the scene and leave it up, but as a low self esteem writer self conscious about those scenes, I will pull it out all together if I feel attacked. Plot, characterization, and OCs, go ahead tear me a new one, sex scene, tread very, very lightly.
> 
> Please comment.
> 
> Romulan:  
> Dinam- brother
> 
> Japanese:  
> kisama wa ore ni ijimerukoto wo dekinai ( 貴様は俺に脅すことをできない）- You can't threaten me
> 
> naze (なぜ？)-why?  
> urusai (煩い？) - is it annoying?
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know if you see spelling/grammar errors.


	24. Emotional Rollercoaster Ride: Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's turn to deal with denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Wrote it in 4 days! I might end up combining this chapter and the last. Haven't decided.

Another mission. Signed by the prince of darkness. Spock leaned closer to the screen, folding his hands. One mission was unusual enough, but two was highly irregular. The prince had his own private army to command at his will. If he needed something done, they would be better suited. Yet, he was getting another assignment. Was it a test? An assessment of some sort.

Spreading out the mission details onto several screens, his lips thinned at the list Sulu had given him. He wanted to send Kirk. Reason: Giotto requested him for the team. While normally he would view Sulu with caution, he knew Giotto had taken a liking to Kirk since the previous mission he had sent Kirk on. He saw Kirk as a possible asset and had requested his transfer multiple times.

Spock declined obviously. Kirk was a personal slave and not enlisted in Starfleet. He could not join officially without special permission from either the admiralty or the high courts of the Emperor’s inner palace. And Spock wouldn’t want to. That particular unit had a high mortality rate due to the nature of their missions. This time however, their success rate may increase by a significant degree if he did allow him to go, making it a difficult call. 

There was a knock on his cabin door, signaling it to be one of the twins. Knocking was rare as the doorbell was preferable. It activated the speech recognition software that allowed one to give the simple command “enter” to open the door, rather than having to get up and answer it manually.

“Enter,” he called out, not looking away from the screen and calculating how much of a difference Kirk would make to the security team, mildly listening for the code being inputted into the door.

Spock looked away from the screen long enough to ensure the person entering his quarters was indeed one of the twins. As it turned out, it was Serik, so Spock returned to his work, waiting for Serik to speak.

“Captain, pardon me for the intrusion at this indecent hour. I wished to talk to you about a private matter.”

Spock turned off the screen, his eyebrows drawing together. “Has something occurred? Are you in a difficult situation?”

Serik raised his hand in a stop motion. A silent way to tell him it was not serious. “That is not the case. I wished to impart my opinion on a particular matter.”

“An opinion?” He asked. “Do speak then.”

“Will you not return to New Vulcan and formally take your intended as your bondmate? You now have the means to do so.”

Spock kept his face carefully blank as he responded, “I have already made my intentions clear about the situation. I intend to give him to you unless you find a bondmate you can bond to.”

“I am cared for, Captain. Sovik will not fail in finding me someone. You squander an opportunity that will, with almost 90 percent certainty, will not come again.”

“I am well aware of the statistics; however, my decision has been made.”

“Is there a reason for this rash decision?”

Spock’s eyebrow lifted at the word rash. “You believe that I am not making my decision without careful consideration?”

“I fail to see why you choose not to consider the options before you. Unless there is a reason you do not wish too.”

“There is no reason. I am satisfied with my status.”

“Is it because of your current engagements with James Kirk?”

Spock’s subtle expressions closed off. “Sovik told you.”

Serik kneeled in front of Spock, head bowed. “As your personal attendant, I implore you to stop these meetings with the human. While an occasional sexual congress may be beneficial for a human, constant physical contact, even for them, will result in the beginnings of an infatuation, artificial or not.”

“Do you believe I am incapable of keeping my emotions under control, Serik?”

“I have noticed the changes between you and Mr. Kirk. I had assumed it to be the beginnings of a human friendship, so I did not speak out against it. However, I also noticed that you have become distracted and careless in your own security,” Serik looked up. “Look to reason, Captain. This relationship with Mr. Kirk is affecting you.”

“I have control over the situation. I would never allow my judgment to be affected by a human. No matter my sexual relationship status with that human. And only now do you come to beseech me to stop my affairs after finding the true nature behind them. If you were concerned about my distracted behavior as you say, would you not of come sooner to inquire about them?”

Serik bowed his head once more. “It is not my place to meddle in your affairs, only offer advice.”

“You say it is not your place yet you are here to do just that.”

“I cannot help but see a correlation between you and Sarek. I do not wish to lose another master.”

Spock’s grip tightened on his armrest. “It would be wise if you take your leave now, Serik.”

“Captain.”

“Leave. That is an order.”

Serik stood. “You never wish to be reminded of your heritage. You will not even allow us to call you by your proper title, yet I have noticed that you are not afraid to use that authority when you do not get your way, like a Terran child.”

“Do you seek punishment for disobeying me, Serik?” Spock said coldly.

Seirk turned, heading towards the door when he stopped. “Perhaps I am too late to intervene,” he said, his back still facing towards Spock. “Perhaps that infatuation has already turned to love.”

Before Spock could say another word, Serik wisely retreated, the door locking behind him. Serik would have to be punished for his transactions. He could not show special treatment, but he had never disobeyed him before nor argued with him. Even Sovik never outright defied him or spoke back.

But Serik’s assumption that he was in love with Kirk was preposterous. He was not like his father. He would not succumb to his emotions. However, if he was so sure of himself, why did Serik’s words disturb him?

Pushing the intercom, he ordered Serik to the booth, short duration. Serik still had acted rebelliously, he could not let that go. He had not become weak as he so much implied.

Turning his screen back on, he saw Kirk’s picture pop up as well among the rest of the recommended security personal. With no hesitation, he gave the go ahead, signing off on the approval of recommended personnel.

* * *

_“Spock, come here.”_

_Little brown eyes peered around the smooth, Vulcan rock architecture, the color of sandstone. The man who called to him was tall and slim with dark brown eyes and dressed in black robes._

_Guiltily, he stepped out, hurrying to the man’s side, hiding behind his robes in an attempt to conceal the fresh bruise on his face._

_“I wish to introduce my son, Spock. Spock, these are my new personal attendants, Sovik and Serik.”_

_Spock peered out just enough to give the two men a glance over. Two young Vulcan males that looked exactly alike, both with their heads bowed. “We have come to serve,” they said in unison._

_“Your service honors us,” Spock whispered in a small voice._

_“Spock, present yourself properly. This behavior is unbecoming of a Vulcan.”_

_Spock looked up at the man, his face stern and unmoving. Spock stepped out, trying not to let his eyes water as his disheveled form trembled. “Your service honors us,” he repeated louder._

_“Sovik, Serik, leave us.”_

_“Yes, my lord,” they said, turning and leaving with synchronized movements._

_The moment the doors closed behind them, Sarek kneeled touching the bruised cheek. “She struck you again.”_

_Spock nodded, his bottom lip trembling._

_“I have told you not to approach her anymore.”_

_“I only wanted to apologize for my transgressions, though I do not know what I have done.” A few tears fell down his cheeks. “She threw a chess board at me. I was told she loved chess.”_

_“You are two now Spock, you should have basic control of your emotions now.” His father’s big rough hands wiped away his tears, being gentle when he brushed over his bruise. “And it is not what you have done, but what I have done. It is I that she hates, not you.”_

_“Why?”_

_His father’s gaze eased and sadness drifted onto the normally emotionless mask. “Because I fell in love with her.”_

_That room and conversation fell away into darkness, replaced by the burning heat of the Vulcan sun, the shaking of the earth, and the panicked emotions flooding the air. His father was carrying him, running until he stumbled from another violent earthquake that jostled him. His mother was being dragged along by his free hand. He stopped running, and he placed Spock down._

_“Take Spock,” he instructed her, pulling out a communicator from his robes. He was calling for help, a ship perhaps. The earth around them was crumbling away, closing in on them. Soon there would be nothing left to stand on. The other Vulcans around them were standing close to one another away from the edge, while Spock and his family were slightly farther way. His father had stepped farther out to get a better signal with the ship he was hailing._

_Whatever his father had done, it worked. The transporter beams were wrapping around them. They would be safe soon. That’s when he saw it._

_His mother’s hand reaching out and pushing Sarek forward just as the ground gave way. Sarek’s eyes were open with shock yet also filled with understanding as he fell. Someone yanked Spock away from his mother’s side and away from the ledge he had wandered closer to, hoping to catch glimpse of his father once more. Hoping somehow he had survived. “Father!” He screamed._

“Father!” Spock sat up with a start. His heart was racing in his side and his breathing was ragged. Another dream. A memory really. One he had kept hidden away for years. That was not acceptable. Vulcan’s did not dream. Why did he have one now? He was Vulcan. He was Vulcan….

With trembling hands, he lit the incense at his bedside to try to center his mind. Sleep was long gone from him, and he was not inclined to return to it.

Slowing his breathing slowed, and he regained control, getting out of bed and moving to his desk to check the first report of the security team he had dispatched earlier that day. So far, everything was going well, no casualties. Kirk was alive and well.

Kirk being off ship will be the last for a while, so this was the last chance to search his quarters one last time. He read over the reports from his sources. Sulu had visited Kirk and while the content of the conversation could not be observed, Kirk had firmly kept him in the hallway and did not invite him inside. Whatever Sulu was up to, he was trying to recruit Kirk for it.

His personal computer program had also run and retrieved a few deleted emails Kirk had attempted to hide. There weren’t many. Just three he could successfully retrieve. Two were inconsequential notes about engineering with Scotty which then devolved into a small argument about Jim’s sexual relationship with him. The argument was most likely the reason for its deletion. He was surprised that the engineer seemed to know. From the conversation, he knew from the beginning like Sovik had, but the engineer’s emails seemed to be more of concern rather than threats and anger.

The third was something they had been looking for. A message from Janice Lester. It was a very simple email exchange. Ms. Lester sent one sentence, “I’m done.” Kirk replied with one sentence as well, to meet him at the observation deck.

An inconsistency. In Jim’s testimony, he clearly stated that Janice was the one who called him out to meet her on the observation deck. This evidence would show that he was lying.

Sitting back in his chair, he pondered what it could mean. He still did not quite believe there was intercourse between the two, but that would mean Kirk was definitely using her for something. She was a weapon’s specialist. Materials were missing. He wasn’t interested in her sexually, but didn’t push her away. She sent a message which Jim arranged to kill her immediately afterwards. Did Jim make her build a-

Something inside him grew cold as details fell into place. The weapon was still missing and no one has figured out what potential threat they could cause if combined in the correct combination, assuming all the pieces missing were the only pieces required to make the weapon. Lester’s excursions to his room may have been a clue, but there was no visual of her taking things into the room nor was anything found.

Still, Jim had lied. He knew he was a liar, but he felt something inside him harden. “What are you planning, Mr. Kirk?”

His intercom whistled, and he realized he was overdue for the bridge. He had been pondering over this for too long. There was still time to figure out what he wanted to do before Jim returned.

* * *

The snow was bloody cold. Jim struggled to keep himself from sneezing.  His body had long since gone numb, laying belly first in the snow and watching the establishment through binoculars from 3 kilometers away. For the past day, he had been laying on the ground, watching and memorizing the guard rotation on the east side of the complex.

Vo army crawled to Jim’s side, riffle firmly in hand. “Nicolson is in place, ready to snipe when you’re ready.”

“Where’s Farrell?” Jim asked, watching a guard exchange information with another about the shift.

“Ready to lead the team in,” he traded the rifle for the binoculars. “Are you going to stay here and snipe?”

“I’m not the best shot,” Jim admitted. “But I’m too far away to join them now. I’ve done everything I can do for them.”

“You make it sound like it wasn’t much,” Vo handed the binoculars back. “Farrell trusts you enough to let you oversee the teams, and no one objected either.”

Jim resisted the urge to sit up and stretch and let the snow roll off him. “You just know genius when you guys see it.”

“I’ll be the first one to say I thought you were full of shit, but I admit, your tactic plans are nothing to sneeze at.” Vo gave him a smirk, the first time he had ever shown a sign other than distrust towards him. “You got my support.”

Jim chuckled, rolling onto his back if just to change his position for the first time in hours. “Not sure if I’ll need it now, but thanks.”

“You never know.” Vo looked through the scope of his rifle. “They are pretty well funded for rebels. Their security is no joke.”

“They have a backer. It’s not possible otherwise,” Jim finally rolled back onto his front and continued his observations.

Tapping the small earpiece, he relayed his orders. “Nicolson, snipe the east tower, start with the guard on the far right and work down. Phelps take out the security guard monitoring the cameras. Farrell, take beta team and move in closer the moment Nicolson finishes. You have a 30 second window to close 100 meters before the camera moves back. Travi, lead alpha team from the west, provide cover fire for beta until they reach the gate then fall back. Farrell, you’re on your own once inside, I’m blind once you go in.”

He heard various confirmations of his orders.

“Maybe we should start calling you captain,” Vo chuckled, using his scope to survey the surrounding area. Vo was essentially acting as his bodyguard, keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to sneak up on them so Jim could solely focus on directing the team from so far away. “Shame the captain won’t let you join us.”

Jim had heard about it from Farrell, but he never understood why Spock wouldn’t allow him to. It was only his willful imagination that it might be because Spock wanted him close or something equally as disgusting as that. This type of place was where he belonged. In the dirt, among the chaos, ordering people around, not by the orderly and neat Captain Spock. “Big shame,” he replied. One good thing about being here was that the mission provided a distraction from his current Spock problems. He didn’t like being reminded of them now.

This mission was different from the last. It would be impossible to get in and out without being noticed. The complex was just too large and there were too many escape routes to contain and kill every rebel. This mission was purely to gather information. The trick was distracting the rebels and not letting them realize what information they took. Alpha team would have to keep the rebels distracted on the outside and make them think they failed at the infiltration stage.

“In 10 minutes, we’ll know if we succeeded or not,” Vo said.

“Yeah, 10 minutes.” Jim shivered from the cold and continued to watch the battle at the gate. Just 10 minutes.

* * *

Spock checked over the medical report as he walked, ensuring that Serik was still alive from his duration in the booth. He was confined to quarters. Sovik was on edge, treading lightly with his words and actions. Today was not the optimal time to give a monthly report, but T’Pau was not someone you kept waiting.

Walking into the room with Sovik, he locked the door behind them then took a seat in front of the terminal, waiting for it to connect to New Vulcan. The response time was longer than normal, but it eventually connected. However, the face on the other side of the connection was not who he expected. “Ko-mehk,” he said involuntarily.

Her cold brown eyes narrowed at him. “Pardon?”

Spock’s mind automatically reacted, shutting down his emotions and packing them into a box until he felt nothing. “My Lady Amanda, I was not expecting you to answer my hail. May I inquire about the whereabouts of Queen T’Pau?”

“The queen is unavailable at the moment and asked that I take the call in her stead.”

Lady Amanda looked bored, slouching in her seat as she read over a PADD. “It seems you’ve recently given a large sum of money to her highness from a mission last month. She thanks you for your contribution to the colony.”

“It is my honor to serve,” he responded automatically.

“So you say,” she put the PADD down. “I’ll be honest, I would have thought Starfleet would have tired of you by now. Nothing more undignified than a half breed, hostage or not. As both of us would rather be elsewhere, make your report brief.”

“The only change in status is that his highness Leopold had sent us on another mission in order to locate the rebel home world. There was also one assassination attempt of my life. We are attempting to locate the one responsible.”

“Is that all?” Amanda’s cold face turned into one of annoyance, but her ice like voice never lost its even cadence. “A simple message would have sufficed. A waste of time and Vulcan resources.”

“I was under the understanding that Starfleet allows these private conversations to ensure her highness T’Pau and the Vulcan council that I am indeed alive.”

“Be honest Spock, do you believe that they would truly care if Starfleet disposed of you or not. Majority of Vulcans aren’t even aware of your existence. Should you die, it would have little impact on the colony as a whole.”

“I am aware, my lady.” Spock bowed his head.

“I almost feel bad that Serik has been assigned as your aid. His loss of life would hinder the colony. Sarek’s only usefulness was picking up that halfling.”

“If he so wishes to return to the colony, I will send him,” Spock replied. This cold unmoving woman was the one Sarek fell in love with, was the reason why he was no longer apart of this universe. Spock could not, with all his knowledge, understand why or how that came to be.

“Make sure you do. Is that all you have to report?”

“Yes, my lady.”  She didn’t even bother with a farewell, cutting off the connection the moment the last syllable left his lips.

“Are you alright, sa-fu?”

“On this ship, I am addressed as captain,” Spock said. Keeping his mind and heart clear of emotions. It was becoming easier each time he spoke to New Vulcan. Their words would no longer hurt him. “Please adhere to Starfleet regulations, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” Sovik said. The intercom whistled to let him know the landing team had returned with three casualties. Hearing this, Spock calmly walked to the transporter room intending to intercept them and get a quick report before going about his day.

The door slid open only to nearly run into someone with a blood-stained torso. Jim had a curse on his lips, until he saw who it was, swallowing his words and smiling up at him with a nearly gentle smile. “I know you missed me, but I didn’t think you’d come find me first.”

The smile cracked through his careful guard. He felt his stone like features melt into concern as the blood started to register with him. “Are you injured?”

“Huh?” Jim looked down at his person then laughed. “Nah, I was treating one of the guys who got injured, and he coughed up blood on me before kicking the bucket.” Jim’s eyes glanced just behind Spock’s shoulder at Sovik then back to him. “Anyway, I’m going to have to sit through a debriefing with Sulu then I’m going to hit the hay. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

The human retreated from his presence, that sudden awkwardness returning as it had the past several conversations they had shared. Was it because of Jim’s plan that he was now awkward around him and avoiding him, and how weak was he to let his calm state be broken by a simple smile from a scheming human.

The crack in his emotional guard was damaging as Amanda’s words started to sink in. Serik would dare compare Sarek’s emotions with his? Jim was scheming, just like she was, but he wasn’t so cold and heartless. Not that he was attached. Any human would have done.

A flash of blonde hair caught his attention. Leila Kalomi was still running around the transporter room, collecting the landing team supplies, logging them into the computer as she did.  “Ms. Kalomi.”

The young woman nearly dropped the PADD she was carrying, her face flushed as she rushed to salute him. “Captain, I didn’t realize you were here.”

The others in the room saluted half-heartedly, but immediately continued moving the injured out and leave for a warm shower and a quick debriefing and performance evaluation. Leila was the only one who gave him her undivided attention. Blonde hair, blue eyes, she would do. “Would you meet me in my quarters tonight?”

The woman’s eyes widened followed by an even deeper blush. “Me? I-i-in your…Yes! I mean. It’d be an honor to,” she stumbled over her words.

“20:00.”  Spock left the transporter room. He could sense Sovik’s confusion. If he and Serik were so convinced he was attached, he’d show them that any human would do. Kirk had been a temporary phase. A phase that he would now put an end to.

* * *

One thing Jim liked about Farrell was how brief he was when giving reports. They had succeeded getting the information they were after, though alpha team suffered two casualties and beta suffered one as well.  He wasn’t allowed to know what information it was, but he had his ways.

Stripping out of his clothes, he checked his messages. Seemed like a lot of things had happened while he was away. The first was from Uhura, an intercepted message from an admiral. Attached to the message was a video and four email addresses to those involved, one of which was Sulu. Watching the video, he wanted to laugh. Well that answered a few questions as well as give him a few loop holes to exploit as well.

The second message was from one of his sources as well. Serik had been sent to the booth and confined to quarters, leaving only Sovik to guard Spock. The reason behind Serik’s punishment was officially disobedience, but no one knew any details behind it.

For Spock to have moved against Serik, it must have been one hell of an argument, but the timing was a shitty one. Sulu and the others were getting ready to move against him. Jim moved to the mirror, inputting in the password quickly and waiting impatiently for the mirror to move.

Once the keyboard was revealed, he entered the first name on the list. Lieutenant Michael Travi. A man moved by the prospect of causing blood and destruction. After working a second mission with him, it was a shame to kill him. Travi appeared on the screen, currently sharpening his knife alone in his room. Travi really did have a good mind. He led alpha team perfectly just hours before, but he was too unstable and dangerous. Jim pressed the big green button, watching his form dissipate in a red light and leaving no trace of Travi once it faded, just his knife.

Worked just as described. With a malicious grin, he typed in the next name. Yi Wei. A young communications officer Jim had never met. A tall, thin Chinese woman with jet black hair and a pretty round face. She was very beautiful. Jim pushed the button again, watching her drop her PADDs in the middle of the corridor as her form disappeared. Had been beautiful. Her time had been up the moment she pulled the trigger and shot Spock from behind three weeks ago. She shouldn’t have touched what was hers. Spock was his.

He paused. Spock was his. He nearly laughed, deactivating the Tantalus field. So this was how far he would go for Spock, jeopardizing his own chances to make a move for himself. Was this his answer then? Was this what he was going to choose?

Yeah. It was. Well fuck him. He smiled a little to himself. He was an idiot. A completely love stuck idiot. Throwing on a black t-shirt and sweatpants, he grabbed his PADD. If they pooled their sources, both he and Spock could stop Admiral Barnett.

He quickly went to Spock’s room, spotting Sovik standing guard. It kind of felt like he was going to confess. It made him embarrassed, giddy, and sick to his stomach all at once.  He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

Sovik didn’t stop him from entering, and Jim didn’t bother ringing the doorbell, just inputting the code as he always did. He had only taken a step inside, before he stopped. There, on the bed, frosted dividing glass still retracted, was Spock and a woman Jim had seen around but thought nothing of. At first, he thought it couldn’t be what he thought it was. That he had just caught them in an awkward position, but they were both in a state of undress and the woman was clearly moaning.

His smile slipped from his face slowly as it registered with him, unable to look away. He felt like the breath had been knocked from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn't think.

Spock looked to the side then bolted up upon seeing him. “Ji─”

“I didn’t know you were busy,” Jim said. He didn’t know what his own voice sounded like. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He thought he saw Spock move to get out of bed, but he had already turned his back and retreated from the room.

A few steps down the hall and he heard Sovik say, “He doesn’t need you. His relationship with you was just an experiment. That is all.”

Clenching his fists, Jim walked away as fast as his could.

Meanwhile, Spock watched with internal horror as the door closed behind the human. Jim’s face. The hurt. The betrayal. He had never seen such vulnerability in his expression alone. He looked as if he would pass out at any moment. That vulnerability was hidden soon enough when he spoke, but Spock couldn’t forget. Something inside him responded to Jim’s pain, and he felt sick.

“Captain,” the woman underneath him called out timidly.

“Get out.” Spock got off her.

“E-excuse me?”

Spock turned a glare her way. Near tears, she scrambled to get out of bed and pick up her clothes. She didn’t even bother dressing as she left, rather facing the humiliation in front of the crew than in front of him.

Perhaps he should feel guilt for what he did to her, but she was no longer in his thoughts. He felt guilt for betraying Jim. He hadn’t felt guilt since he was a child. Closing his eyes, he knew he had to face the truth. He had known the truth, but he was scared. Scared that Jim was just like her. Scared from seeing the parallels between him and Sarek, but not wanting to stop. Now, knowing he had lost the trust he had slowly cultivated over their months together, he had to face that reality of the situation. He was in love with James T. Kirk. And he had just lost his chance to do anything about it.

* * *

 

Stupid! He was so stupid! Of course, Spock was going to sleep around. Their agreement stated only Jim wasn’t to sleep around, nothing about Spock. Why would he ever think that Spock wouldn’t go to someone else? Just because he was Spock’s first? That he would somehow be loved back. Why did he think that Spock would even accept his love? Spock was just using him for pleasure. Nothing more or less.

Each thought weighed heavier and heavier in his heart. He didn’t know how to deal with the pain of betrayal or sadness, but he did know anger and revenge. What he had planned to do before was just temporary insanity. He would continue with his original plan.

Knocking on the door, he waited for the owner to answer. A gruff looking Sulu answered,, “What do you want? I’m trying to sleep.”

Jim handed him his PADD, and with a dark yet sickly sweet smile, irradiating  menace, he said, “I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan  
> Ko-mehk- mother
> 
> Remember to comment. They foster faster updates.


	25. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may change the ending at some point. I think it's weak but I'm really tired. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Also, Frank is Jim's uncle. I found out officially from the deleted scene from the movie and from the comic book tie ins.

Jim didn’t sleep that night. How could he when his mind was putting the final details into place. That, and his room held memories he didn’t want to think about. Currently, a large part of him didn’t feel anything, yet at the same time, he felt everything. The conflict left him numb, his personality cold. Which is why Scotty was looking at him with constant concern as he lounged on the engineer’s bed while Scotty read the contents of the PADD in his hands.

“You really want to go through with this, lad?” The engineer rubbed his face tiredly but unable to look away at the information in his hands. “It’s a good plan, but you’re not…”

“I got everything covered. Serik is the answer to that.”

Jim’s cold answer was the only thing that pulled the engineer’s gaze away. “Why now, laddy? I thought you and the captain─”

“Spock is no longer relevant,” he snapped. “This is my chance to change everything my life’s been until now. Why wouldn’t I take it?”

“Jim, lad, did…the captain hurt you?”

Jim just looked away, his face carefully blank as he picked up a dagger carelessly left within his grasp, staring at it with false scrutiny.

Jim’s reaction made Scotty’s face darken with anger.  “I’m in. The plan is simple enough. Have you told the doctor about the plan?”

“Why would he need to know? He’ll find out soon enough.”

“Aye, that is true, but he’s your good friend too, lad.”

“I don’t have friends.”

Leaning back in his chair, the engineer sighed loudly. “Use people or kill them. Can’t argue with that way of thinkin’. But the doctor won’t agree.” Scratching the back of his head, Scotty handed the PADD back to Jim. “I wish you luck, Jim. I’ll support you the best way I can.”

“Thanks Scotty.” Jim sat up, getting ready to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to look forward to it.”

Jim left, leaning heavily against the wall. That was the last of them. Everything was in place. He just needed Sulu to hold up his end of the bargain. He understood now why Sulu had wanted his help so bad. Well, he knew Sulu would play his part. That’s all he needed for now, but he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was scheduled to meet with Sovik for training in three hours, but he wasn’t going to go. There was no reason too, but he didn’t want to go back to his room either.

He wandered the halls until he found himself in front of Dr. McCoy’s quarters, pushing the doorbell. He knew the doctor would be sleeping, and that he would have to get up for work in an hour or two.

The doctor answered, looking gruff with his wrinkled t-shirt and bed hair. Seeing Jim and giving him a quick look over, he moved aside, letting him in without a word. Jim hesitated at the door, wondering why he came. He didn’t know. He had just been cheated on by the first person he admitted feelings for just hours before and said he didn’t have friends only minutes, yet here he was. This was another mistake, but he didn’t want to go back to the room.

He stepped inside. During his hesitation, McCoy had already made his bed and put in a movie, one of old black and white ones that Jim always liked. He had only mentioned his like for them once, three months ago during their first night of drinking. The doctor sat down at the small table, a cup of coffee in front of him instead of the usual alcohol. Jim’s feet moved on their own, taking him to the empty chair. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, but he wouldn’t be alone either.

* * *

 

Jim didn’t show up for training, nor did he show for his shift. Sovik never mentioned Jim’s absence from practice, but Spock had waited in the gym observation room to catch a glimpse of the human’s state. Spock hadn’t slept, and he couldn’t meditate. The outcome should have been optimal. He had sabotaged this _relationship_ before it could truly take root. He had accidentally ensured he could not follow his father’s path. Yet, the events that had played out last night felt wrong. He had done wrong. Serik was correct, he had been acting like a spoiled human child, closing his eyes to the truth in order to preserve his own perspective of reality.

He sat on the bridge, staring blankly into space, having finished all of his reports during his sleepless night. No one would have noticed his distraction, no one but perhaps the subject of his thoughts. He should let Serik out of confinement as well once the shift was over. He should face both of his aids as they deserved. Perhaps they were right. He should take his betrothed and create the pre-marital bond. That would be the logical thing to do. Even so, the thought sat ill with him. Using the shift to ponder why, the answer to that question continued to elude him.

It was reaching 1300 hours when the ship suddenly dropped out of warp, everyone jerking forward, two falling out of their seat. “Report,” Spock said calmly.

“Engines have shut down manually by axillary control in engineering,” Kalomi timidly spoke up.

Frowning, he flipped the switch on the control panel on his armrest. “Bridge to engineering.” No response. “Bridge to engineering.” Again, there was no response. “Lieutenant Uhura, establish ship wide communication.”

“I can’t, sir. Communication has also been blocked by axillary control,” Uhura chimed.

Sovik pulled out his phaser. “Sir, I believe this may be the beginning of a muti-,” he was cut off by a hole in the center of his chest. Sovik collapsed onto the deck with a loud thud, the bridge silent.

Spock calmly looked at the man who had fired, Sulu, with a phaser in his hands. “Mutiny, Mr. Sulu?”

“Is that what it looks like?” Sulu smirked, standing from his chair at the helm. “Not that you’d be wrong.”

“My opperatives─”

“Are currently dealing with their own problems.” The turbolift to the bridge opened, distracting Sulu momentarily but not long enough for Spock to rush him. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Kirk?”

Spock’s breathing hitched for a moment at the name and at the definite presence of his former lover. He swirled the chair just enough to see Jim, still in regulation blacks and flanked by two officers from the elite security team, Vo and Farrell.

“Something like that.” Jim leaned against the communication console, his face blank and lacking the usual cocky attitude. “You still haven’t finished, yet?”

“I’m getting to it,” Sulu frowned. “Get out of the chair, green blooded bastard.”

Spock’s lips thinned, glancing at Sovik, his chest barely moving, then back to Sulu. Spock stood with as much dignity he always did as if he wasn’t being held at phaser point. A guard came up from behind, taking his knife, phaser, and agonizer from his belt. The moment the guard stepped away, Spock was struck by Sulu’s fist, his head snapping to the side. Of course, Spock’s lack of response only riled Sulu up as he took to beating Spock. Using his fists, he aimed at Spock’s vitals, making the Vulcan winded, but Spock refused to fall. Not until Sulu kneed his groin, forcing Spock to take a knee.

“Here,” someone yelled, tossing Sulu what looked like a pipe. “Use this.”

Sulu’s malicious nature came out the moment the moment the pipe was put into his hand. Wielding it like an extension of his body, he renewed Spock’s beating. This time, even Spock couldn’t withstand the assault without protecting himself. Using his arms to cover his head and curl in his body to protect the more tender areas. Green blood splatter with each strike, slowly, covering the deck with green, Sulu laughing maniacally. “How’s that, you filthy dog? Still think you’re better than us humans? That we’ll continue to be afraid of you?!”

There were some cheers from the crew, and Jim watched as Spock was beaten. Not moving to help either party.

“Hey,” Uhura hissed. “Are you going to let him keep doing this? You promised me you wouldn’t let Sulu get out of hand.”

“He’s not dead, is he,” he replied. Not once had Spock asked him for help, nor had he cried out in pain. He was really going to suffer in silence, not giving Sulu the satisfactory of hearing him even groan. The Vulcan was a stubborn one.

“Fuck this, someone get me my katana. I’m going to chop his fucking hands off.”

Someone moved to give Sulu just that, handing the hilt to his retractable sword to him. Smiling, the sword’s blade extended. Sulu was crazy for blood, aligning his blade with Spock’s wrist, the Vulcan’s right hand trapped under Sulu’s boot.

Jim stepped in, grabbing Sulu’s wrist. “That is enough.”

Sulu glared at him. “I kill him. We had a deal.”

Sulu didn’t see the hidden dagger in Jim’s hand, swiping up in a fluid motion, catching Sulu’s face from the cheek bone all the way to his hairline, just missing Sulu’s left eye. Sulu recoiled back, crying out angrily in pain. The cut was a deep and bleeding heavily.

Jim wiped off the blood on his forearm as he said, “Unfortunately, I never intended to follow your plan. This is my mutiny. Not yours.”

Sulu growled, putting a hand to his wound to slow the bleeding. “Guards, sieze him!”

No one moved. “Security!” he bellowed again only to achieve the same result.

Jim backed away, stepping over Spock and sitting in the captain’s seat. “Vo, Farrell, restrain Mr. Sulu for me.”

“You traitor. You think you’ll get away with this?” Sulu yelled, about to attack when Vo used his phaser on a very low stun that made Sulu crumble but not lose consciousness. Farrell subdued him while Vo took the katana away.

“Actually,” Jim grinned. “I will. You see, you needed me because of who I knew. I had access to people who couldn’t be bribed with money. Namely Doctor McCoy and Chief Engineer Scott. Without those two and a few others that will remain nameless, it was hard to overthrow Spock without their support as they would prefer Spock to be where he was. It’s true that you have a larger network than me on the ship, but I made mine in more strategic positions, namely the top minds and department heads of this ship. If you have the pawns, then I have their kings.”

“You think Starfleet will let you get away with this?” Sulu sneered. “You aren’t even Starfleet. HQ will never accept you as Captain.”

“Oh, I think they will.” Jim sang. “Uhura, be so kind and tell the good doctor to come the bridge with an emergency kit. He has quite a few patients awaiting his attention.”

Uhura was hiding a scowl, turning to the console to do as she was told.

Jim turned his eyes to Spock once again. While his smile was still in place, his eyes were dead. He still felt cold inside even when a bloodied and bruised Spock looked up at him from the floor. “Sit up,” he commanded.

Spock didn’t move. Whether he could or not didn’t matter to him. He had brought this upon himself, Jim thought. “Sovik is dying Spock. Sit up if you want to save him.”

It got Spock moving, struggling to get himself into a sitting position. Green blood matted his hair and bruises were already appearing on his face and body, yet he still held himself with dignity, but he kept his eyes down casted, not looking at Jim who looked down on him.

Spock had just managed to finish sitting up when McCoy walked onto the bridge. “What in blue blazes is going on?!” He demanded not catching the tense atmosphere at first. However, he did notice Jim sitting in the captain’s chair and three bleeding officers, effectively shutting his trap.

The doctor was heading to Sovik when Jim spoke up. “Fix up Sulu’s wound first, won’t you Bones? I think he needs the attention.”

The doctor wanted to protest, and he almost did, opening his mouth with fury in his eyes, but even he knew not to interrupt a mutiny without knowing its details.

The doctor went to Sulu, not even using his tricorder as he treated the wound as quickly as he could. He used bandages to keep the wound from bleeding, not the dermal regenerator, probably because the former was faster even if it was temporary.

Jim didn’t pay them any mind. He just watched Spock. Sovik was dying if not dead already, and Jim was letting any chance of his survival slip through his fingertips if just to get a reaction from Spock. Maybe a plea for him to reconsider or an argument. Nothing came. The logical choice as Spock would probably see his behavior as sadistic or unpredictable. It was wiser to keep his mouth shut since Jim had cut off Spock’s ability to call his operatives for backup and therefore unable to help Sovik or himself.

Once finished with temporary care for Sulu, McCoy immediately moved to Sovik, cursing when he checked his pulse. “Someone help me move him. If he doesn’t get into medbay within the next minute, there’ll be nothing to save.”

“Vo, take Sulu to the brig then come back to bring the former captain to the place I specified before. Giotto, if you would help the doctor move the trash from my bridge.” Both officers moved to his command, McCoy muttering curses the entire way.

“Uhura, contact Starfleet Headquarters. Connect me to Admiral Barnett.”

“Yes…Captain,” she said hesitantly.

“Bridge to engineering,” Jim hailed.

“Scotty here. Everything ready to go, Captain?”

“Yeah, Scotty, it is. Return control to the bridge. Kirk out. Chekov, take over Mr. Sulu’s helm will you.”

“Yes, sir,” the young man gave a chirper reply, moving a seat over to take over the helm.

Vo had come back and removed Spock from the bridge by the time the long-distance call connected. Barnett’s form appeared on the view screen. The admiral’s dark eyes widened in surprise at Jim sitting in the captain’s seat. “Who are you?”

“James Kirk, son of George Kirk of the ISS Kelvin, current captain of the ISS Enterprise.” Jim didn’t sit up for the admiral nor did he do anything to show any sign of respect for the man in power.

The admiral laughed as if Jim was nothing more than a child trying to act like an adult and talked to him as such. “Last time I checked Kirk, your status is of a slave under one S’chn T’gai Spock.”

“Actually, Admiral, with all due respect, you gave me permission to become captain by sending that vague message to specific members to the _Enterprise_ crew.”

The admiral frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me clarify. Lieutenant Uhura, if you will.” He paused for a moment for Uhura to pull up a message for both the admiral and the crew to see. “You said, and I quote, ‘Any person who can claim the captain’s seat of the ISS Enterprise and/or successfully lead a mutiny against the current captain, Captain S’chn T’gai Spock, would automatically receive the title and privileges of captain regardless of rank or status by the authority of Admiral Barnett on behalf of the Starfleet Headquarters and the Empire,’ end of quote.” Jim recited, leaning forward in his seat. “As you can see, I’m in control of the Enterprise and, by your own words, that means I am now captain.”

The admiral showed both awe and annoyance, not appreciating how this slave was addressing him. “And do you think it’s easy running a starship Kirk? To be captain?”

“Not at all, sir, but only an idiot would pass up a chance to claim power and riches. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course,” Barnett leaned back in his seat, watching Kirk with mild interest. “I did send that message. It would be rude of me not to uphold my end of the deal.” The admiral smiled, too politely to be natural. “You have balls to have this conversation in front of your bridge crew. I’ll commend you for that. If you can complete your first assignment, then I will let you keep the position. Details will be sent to your PADD along with temporary captain status and registration number. You have 6 solar days to complete the task.”

“Very well, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The call disconnected. Jim was no fool. It wasn’t going to be an easy mission. Barnett would want to kick him out as soon as possible, but for now, his base was created on loyalty to him, not bribes. It would protect him for a short while.

Five more minutes, alpha shift would be over, giving him the much needed time to regroup and prepare for his real captaining duties for tomorrow. He had planned the attack at this time solely due to this reason, to not interrupt the normal function of the ship by his bad captaining skills or disrupt the flow of the normal ship operations.

“Chekov, meet me tonight in ready room 3 at 20:30. I have a few things I need your help with.”

“Sure thing, Captain.”

There was some confusion during the rotation, but it went surprisingly smooth, and everyone from alpha shift was relieved. Farrell stuck to his side as his bodyguard, happy to be out of the surveillance room in between missions, and Jim felt safe with him having his back, making it one less thing Jim had to worry about.

His first stop was an unexpected place, even to Farrell, but if Jim wanted to keep his command, this would have to work. Stopping in front of the door, he ordered Farrell to stay watch. Thanks to Chekov’s earlier work, the override code had been changed to something he could use.

He entered the room, checking over the occupant who was situated in a corner meditating. “Heard Spock betrayed you, but it was hard to believe until I saw it myself.”

Serik opened his eyes slowly. “Has the Captain called for me?”

“Yes,” Jim said, taking a seat on the narrow bed. “I’m calling on you.”

Serik’s brows drew together. “I do not understand.”

“Spock is no longer captain. I am.”

Serik looked up, his face still blank with no hint of his thoughts. “You betrayed him and caused a mutiny.”

“Something like that. Which is why I need your help.”

Serik ticked an eyebrow up. “I fail to see why you would believe I would assist you in your endeavors.”

“Because as long as you work for me, Spock stays alive. Starfleet wants him dead, so does the Empire from what I understand. They don’t like Vulcans with too much power and influence. A lot of people on this ship feel the same way. If I’m not captain, who’s to say that they’ll be as generous.”

Serik’s lips downturned, first time he saw any emotion from the otherwise stoic Vulcan. “Clever. Keeping Captain Spock alive so that you can use Sovik and I to assist you since you lack knowledge in the job you want to keep.”

“Not Sovik, just you.” This time it was confusion in Serik’s face, so Jim clarified. “Sovik is too unstable and emotional. I can’t trust him not to do something rash. It’s not a bad deal is it? You work for me and guarantee Spock’s life?”

Serik stood from his seated position, towering over Jim and looking down at him with that ever blank stare. “I commend you for your ingenuity. To be honest, I did not expect any significant trouble from you. Not to this degree. Perhaps an assassination attempt on my master, but not a ship wide mutiny. Nor did I expect you to use him against me.”

Jim smirked. “What can I say, I had a few months to plan. Now, do you except?”

Serik didn’t waiver. “My first and foremost duty is to protect my master. As his life is within your control, obviously, I have no choice.” Serik turned to retrieve his uniform.

“Good, cause you’re going to be my first in command. For now.” Jim stood.

“If I may…Captain. I would like to ascertain the health of former Captain Spock before I continue with my duties.”

Jim hummed. “He’s currently undergoing treatment. Sulu did a number on him before I stopped him.”

“And Sovik?”

“Shot before I was even on the bridge. I don’t know his status.”

Serik’s body tensed, but stayed quiet, knowing when not to press for more information. He wasn’t in a position to argue. Well, Jim had to throw a bone to ensure his loyalty. “Once you dress, we’ll go to sickbay.”

He didn’t leave the room as Serik got dressed, waiting patiently. There was a list of items he would have to prepare for tomorrow. Sulu’s men were controlled for now and as long as he had Spock in his possession, Serik wouldn’t move their operatives against him either. The problem occurred later. Would he be able to keep control of the _Enterprise_?

Once dressed, they both left the room, Farrell and Serik taking position behind him. News of his rise to the captaincy had already gotten around. Every crew member saluted him they walked down the halls, moving out of his way. It was reminiscent of when Spock first took the seat. This time however, majority of the ship didn’t want to kill their new captain. Not yet anyway.

Stepping into sickbay, he was surprised to see McCoy not in surgery. He guessed Sovik kicked the bucket after all. “Bones,” he called out.

The doctor glared then tilted his head to his office, which Jim followed, waving his two new bodyguards to stand at the entrance.

The moment the door closed, McCoy locked the door. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?!” McCoy bellowed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, kid?!”

“Is that how you speak to your superior officer, Bones?” Jim’s lips twitched, taking a seat on the doctor’s desk. “Cause that’s kind of insubordinate.”

“Jim…Captain, do you really think you can run a star ship?” He said frantically. “This is too much! You’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”

“I’m kind of hurt Bones. Of course, I know I can’t run a starship. That’s why I enlisted help.” Jim tilted his head towards the door.

McCoy’s furrowed his eyebrows until he finally understood. “Serik. How did you─” he trailed off when Jim waved him off.

“How’s Sovik?” he asked, changing the question.

“Alive. Barely. He’s still in critical care. He lost a lot of blood, and we have none to give him. Might still kick the bucket any moment.”

“Tragic,” he said sarcastically. “I still need you to see to Spock’s injuries. Can you do that for me Bones?”

Bones glared at him. “He did a lot for you kid. Got you out of the arena, paid you, gave you a vacation. You could at least pretend you care.”

Jim’s smile dropped, and he turned his own ice-cold glare onto the doctor. “Heal him enough so he won’t die,” he ordered. Jim unlocked the door. “I’ll see you later, Bones,” and walked out.

Serik was looking off to the side when he came out. Jim followed his gaze until he saw Sovik, deathly pale in a biobed and his vital display low. Sovik was exposed to the rest of sick bay, anyone could easily come up and finished the job with no guards and not even a private room to keep him out of view. At this rate, Sovik would be killed even if he did recover from his injury.

“I’ll move him to a more secured room if you help me with the paperwork and adequately do your job.”

“You think you can continue to persuade me by using my brother and Former Captain Spock against me?” Serik asked.

“For now. We’ll see in the future. Now, about that paperwork.”

Jim still couldn’t read Serik which put Jim on edge constantly. It was dangerous to employ people you couldn’t predict, but Serik was the only one who could fit the role. The paperwork he had to read was immense, and all of it was written with bureaucratic sentences that made little sense to him. It was embarrassing, but he had to have Serik explain majority of it to him as well as show him how to access the computer and the captain restricted files and orders.

Serik, like Spock, was thorough and patient. It was a trait Jim was actually fond of when it came to Vulcans. Despite their hate for him, they kept their word and didn’t let their emotions effect their work. Serik took almost all of the reports with him when he left, knowing Jim didn’t know how to fill them out, but agreed to take the time tomorrow after shift to show him how to fill them out properly. Jim was determined to learn the everyday duties of being captain within a week. The longer he depended on Serik, the easier it would become for Serik to find a way to oppose him.

“I will return at 0500 to discuss the reports and ensure they are to your standards. Will that be all, Captain Kirk?”

“You are dismissed.”

With a salute, Serik left. Jim continued to sit in the ready room, PADDs spread out around the table. It was late into the night, almost 0100. Having not slept the night before, his eyes began to droop, yet he knew sleep was going to try to evade him again.

Today had gone smoothly, more so than he had expected. All this was just an extension of his original plan, brought to him by an opportunity that just so happened to pass by. What he told Sulu was right. He had intentionally made friends with nearly all the heads: chief engineer, chief medical officer, chief communications, head weapon’s specialist, the top security team, and the top computer specialist, to fit his needs and use them as he willed. Besides the first two, he had carefully chosen who to get involved with, gaining their trust. Better yet, the way he had met them was through work or casual settings that seemed natural.  Knowing them, their weaknesses and desires, getting their cooperation was rather simple.

Sulu’s force had also been significantly weakened, as had Spock’s. Using Uhura to monitor all electronic communication and using Farrell to monitor the cameras, Jim was able to find out who Sulu’s closest subordinates were. As suspicious and backstabbing as Sulu was, even he had people he trusted exclusively. It was a small group of six. Getting rid of half the night before with the Tantalus raised little attention and caused enough chaos when the mutiny began when the others realized they were missing, slowing orders and allowing Jim’s more elite and respected team to gather their own subordinates to subdue the rest of Sulu’s men.

Spock on the other hand only kept Sovik and Serik close. Spock had his informants well placed, but were just too easily tempted away. Something none of the Vulcan’s excelled at was relating to others. They stayed in their bubble, relying only upon themselves unless they sought information they could not obtain on their own. There were no personal ties between them and their underlings, making their loyalty easily broken.

Of course, without Chekov, he wouldn’t have been able to erase his tracks and keep an eye on Spock’s investigation on him. Chekov’s abilities were going to earn him a promotion as soon as Jim’s position was secure. Not that Barnett was going to make it easy. He had read over his first mission, it was going to be difficult. However, the nature of the mission itself was his strong suit. Tactics he would never lose in.

But what should he do with Spock. Just the mental utterance of his name, made Jim scowl and his mood turned sour. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t kill him, and part of him really wanted to. Every time his thoughts wandered to the Vulcan, his chest constricted painfully, and he hated it, but thoughts of killing him made it hurt more. Right now, he was a useful tool against Serik, but what about after?

Sell him to the slave trade maybe? Vulcans had a high price and with Spock’s previous status as an empire hero, he’d fetch a higher sum. It seemed like a great idea, until the thought of someone else touching Spock made his temper flare.

Frowning, he pulled up Spock’s file from Starfleet. It was just out of bored curiosity until it required authorization to check it into Spock’s file, gaining Jim’s full attention. Now actively interested, he inputted his new code. The information following had him widening his eyes in shock with each passing line. He had expected something, but not this. This would make his dealings with Spock more difficult.

The question was, now that he knew, how was he going to handle Spock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will take a while for the next update. While I planned the mutiny since chapter two, afterwards I'm at a lost.
> 
> Comment please.


	26. Notice Me, Senpai!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a late update! Originally I had like 7 exams and 4 papers at the end of the Japanese semester and then a plane ride home which was 14 hours. After that, I was just lazy. Apparently, I can't concentrate unless I have a large workload. Also the title of this chapter.....I've been reading a lot of manga. I'll drop the senpai part later.

As Jim had expected, he didn’t sleep much that night either. Instead, he sat in the ready room, pouring over reports and procedures, learning as much as he could about his new duties that he hadn’t picked up watching Spock and Pike.

Serik arrived on time as promised, returning at exactly 0500 hours, and he took the time to explain how he did the reports and why things had to be phrased the way they were. Jim only partially listened, having not slept the previous two nights, but he decided to award Serik anyway. From what he heard, Serik did the reports properly. He would allow Serik to go to McCoy for a blood transfusion for Sovik after Alpha shift. The other Vulcan was still teetering between life and death, the transfusion would save his life most likely. Some would call Jim’s actions mercy. Others, manipulation, because that was what it was. To manipulate people’s feelings and actions was to survive. Even Vulcan’s weren’t made of stone. Serik may care for little, but he did care for two things even if his expressions didn’t explicitly state it.

When he finally left for a shower, his guard had been replaced with Vo who kept the ever-professional face. “Any news on the situation?”

“There are a few insurrections last night from Sulu’s men, but everyone else had been rather quiet. Majority of the crew seem satisfied that the Vulcan captain was overthrown. There are a few who aren’t happy with your background and a few who ‘jokingly’ stated that it’d be a cinch to get rid of you. We have a list of both. Chekov forwarded it to your PADD, and Phelps is keeping tabs on them through surveillance.”

“I may increase your workload starting today,” Jim stopped just in front of his quarters, turning to Vo. “I’m no captain, and it will be obvious after the first shift.”

Vo looked annoyed as if Jim was nagging him for the hundredth time rather than the first. “I am well aware of that. You jumped into the deep end. You’ll either sink or swim. It’s my job to keep the sharks away while you do it.”

Jim smiled a bit. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Jim went inside his old quarters, taking a shower to make himself look presentable and less tired. He had spent years learning to hide his fatigue, but four days was his limit, and he was quickly approaching it. He’d have to sleep tonight.

Putting on his new captain’s uniform, he left with Vo, and now Phelps, at his side to the bridge.

Well, the first shift went about as well as he expected. There were a lot of things that he knew in theory but not in practice which came abundantly clear. Thankfully, the things he was stumbling on was more on the unspoken side rather than relaying orders, but he even gave some vague or confusing orders at times too. His only savior was Serik, who smoothed over his mistakes almost flawlessly and without waiting for Jim to order him too.  Jim took careful notes on what Serik corrected and would copy him with better results, but he knew his mistakes would put ideas in the crew’s heads. That he’d be easy to use or kill due to his ignorance. That they would make a better captain than him. His security knew this would happen, so measures were already in place against it, but if he didn’t prove he could do this soon, the worse the situation would become. By the end of the shift, he had a fatigue headache, and his mood was turning sour, but he kept his confident smile and personality, bluffing his way through.

There was one thing he had to do before he could sleep however. There was another reason why he sent Serik to McCoy after alpha shift rather than during. After leaving the bridge, he went down deep into engineering. Scotty was insanely possessive about the area and let very few people into certain parts without permission from the Chief Security Head, the captain, and himself. Even his own engineers were restricted. So the empty, forgotten office in the lower decks was the perfect place to hide things.

Scotty let him in without a word, and he left his guards at the entrance of the engineering decks. Bones said he did what Jim asked, that the prisoner wouldn’t die. Entering the rather dark room, the lights barely letting Jim see the slouched form of the Vulcan chained, the same way Jim had been in Spock’s quarters, his wrists cuffed and attached to the shackles around Spock’s ankles that were attached to a screw eye on the floor. The only difference was the chains used on Spock were thicker and much more difficult to break.

Spock was only in his trousers, stripped of his shirt, greenish bruises littering his skin from Sulu’s beating. Blood was crusted onto his skin and his hair was matted down with the fluid as well.  Even in the dim light, Jim could see how Spock’s shoulder muscles strained from slouching forward to sleep. Having been restrained similarly in the past, Jim knew the Vulcan’s extremities would be numb by now, having been forced to sit on his heels and having his arms pulled back unnaturally.

There was no sign of that discomfort on the Vulcan’s face. He didn’t even look up when Jim entered. His eyes were closed and the only sound was their breathing, echoing off the walls of the empty room. Jim could have mistaken Spock for sleeping or perhaps unconscious if it were not for the tensing of muscles when he had entered. Spock was so lean it was simple to see the slightest change even in this lighting.

Jim sat down in the only piece of furniture in the room, a metal chair that had been welded down to the floor. He sat regarding Spock. He had succeeded. He had beaten Spock, humiliated him. He had wanted to see him defeated. That’s why he had come here for. He waited in silence for Spock to say the first words, to prove that Jim had won and admit his defeat.

Realizing that Jim had no intention of leaving, Spock slowly opened his eyes, sitting up from the position he had adopted to sleep in, straightening his back and holding his head high. Even defeated he held dignity without sign of humiliation or discouragement. It was the Vulcan’s gaze however that made Jim’s stomach squeeze unpleasantly. It was dead. Like a doll’s. They held no emotion, not an inkling of what Spock was thinking. Even pain or discomfort was absent from his expression, as if he had killed his nerves from perceiving them. “Mr. Kirk, I commend you on your display of ingenuity during this match.”

If Spock’s eyes were ice, then his words were liquid nitrogen. Jim remembered those words Spock had spoken. They were the first words Spock had ever said to him, and the difference between them and now were startling clear. They sounded wrong. There should have been amusement or annoyance underlying his tone. Something he had always heard in Spock’s voice. Even when he was hiding them, there was always something Jim could decipher and play off, but it didn’t sound like he was hiding anything. There was just simply was nothing there.

“Child’s play,” he replied, falling back to an automatic response, the response he had given back then. “If you know how to play the game.”

“Indeed.” And that was it. Spock didn’t say another word, just looking straight ahead right through Jim as if he wasn’t even there.

Jim waited and waited, and the longer the silence stretched the more agitated he became. “Is that it Spock? Nothing else to say?”

“I have stated everything needed to be said,” Spock said.

Jim stood abruptly, unable to take that stare any longer, taking to pacing around the room, finding it difficult to stay still. “You really piss me off. You know that?” He turned sharply to Spock, throwing him a venomous glare. “What gives you the right to look down on me? You’re no better than me. In fact, you’re in the same position as me, aren’t you, Crowned Prince S’chn T’gai Spock.”

He had hoped for some reaction for Spock at the use of his official title, but there was still nothing so he pressed on. “Surprised I know your little secret? A child born between the great Ambassador Sarek and his mistress Amanda Greyson. The Vulcans were so ashamed of your birth, they hid it from the registry. You’re nothing but a disgusting half-breed, just like your Romulan bodyguards.”

“They were so eager to get rid of you too. They didn’t even hesitate to surrender you to the Empire as a hostage, in exchange for stopping the attacks on your people after Vulcan was destroyed.” Jim laughed almost manically. “I always wondered why you never had a fucking spine, but now I know. You step out of line and New Vulcan goes up in flames.”

There was still nothing, and Jim’s patience was growing thin. What could he say to get something out of him? Make him hurt. “No one cares about you. Amanda loathes your existence and the crew would pay anything to see you suffer. Starfleet does the bare minimum to treat you as a prince, luxurious hotels and basic protections, but even they realize Vulcan doesn’t care what happens to you. So, it doesn’t matter if they get rid of you if they feel threatened by you, and Serik and Sovik are paid to stay by your side.” Jim grabbed his hair, forcing Spock to look at him. “You are no better than me. You’re scrambling to survive just like I am. The only difference is, I have the balls to challenge what I was given while you just roll over like a dead dog.”

Nothing changed. Spock just looked through him in silence. Grinding his teeth in anger, he released Spock’s hair and turned away to pace once again. “Even dead dogs have their uses. Despite everything, you still have property which your mother holds in your place.” Jim stopped pacing, throwing a look over his shoulder. He didn’t like that look on his Vulcan’s face. “Doesn’t mean you can’t suffer in the meantime. What do you say to that?”

When nothing changed, when Spock continued to hold his silence, Jim stormed out wishing he could slam the door behind him. Who did Spock think he was? What right did he have to hold himself up like he was still in control, like he was the one still captain. Why wasn’t he angry or fighting back or something? Anything?

“Jimbo.”

Jim’s head snapped up at the sound of Scotty’s voice, the engineer standing in front of him with his hands on his hips like a disapproving parent. “What?” he snapped.

The engineer tilted his head towards the warp core. “I need some help with this beauty over here. If you got some time to spare from captaining, why don’t you put your hands to good use.”

Jim was ready to refuse, wanting to put as much distance between that room and himself as possible, but he didn’t. Instead, he took off his uniform shirt tossing it to the side and picked up a wrench. “10 minutes,” he muttered.

Grinning, he slapped Jim’s back. “Course, Captain.”

Those ten minutes easily stretched into an hour. An hour he needed to cool his head and work out his frustrations. He cursed at the wasted time he could have spent learning, but he also knew that Scotty had done this for a reason. He couldn’t show his frustrations or mental weakness while still stabilizing his captaincy.

Whatever Scotty thought about Jim visiting Spock alone, he never spoke his mind or questioned Jim’s decision. The fact he came for him was tell enough. Jim didn’t want to dwell on it though. He didn’t want Scotty’s pity. In truth, he wished Scotty hadn’t known at all even if it was Scotty jumping to conclusions that made the engineer cooperate with his plan.

He slipped away from the engineer’s watchful eye and left the department without a word.  Slapping on a manufactured grin, he greeted his bodyguards and retreated to the sanctity of his old quarters, throwing his armful of PADDs onto the bed. He could have gone to the captain’s quarter’s, could have removed Spock’s things and claimed it as his own, but he hadn’t even gone near the area let alone the room. He had everything he needed here.

Going through the list of potential and confirmed trouble makers supplied by his small but elite information network, he used the Tantalus Field, killing off the well-known opposition to his captaincy. It was laughably simple how easy it was to immobilize his enemies now. If the rebels had been able to keep it a secret, they could have done serious damage to the Empire. Now it was in his hands.

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face. He’d have to move the damn thing to the captain’s quarters eventually. That was going to be a pain in the ass, and he’d have to do it himself too.  Finding it a hassle to remove his uniform, he simply plopped down on the bed, pulling over the first PADD tiredly. He’d get through a report or two before fatigue overcame him. A day had already passed, leaving him five to complete the mission. Something he’d have to tackle once he awoke from a short nap.

He positioned himself in the corner of his bed that was pressed against the wall, propping the PADD on his knees and leaning his head against the bulkhead.

As he worked, his body began to shut down no longer able to resist the sleep that beckoned him. His eyes began to droop. The lines blurred together in his vision. His typing slowed, and his shoulders slouched.

His last thought as his conscious faded out into nothingness was whether or not his bed had always been so cold.

* * *

“Alright, that should be enough,” Dr. McCoy removed the tube from Serik’s arm, putting a bandage over the small hole in his skin. “Stay here.”

The doctor took away the tray, leaving the isolated ward. Serik was sitting in a chair beside Sovik’s bedside. Kirk had kept his word, moving Sovik to a secure location and allowing the blood transfusion. It appeared Kirk did keep his word, but it was only logical given he wanted Serik’s cooperation.

Taking a slow breath, his eyes closed. “You are conscious.”

“I am not sure this qualifies,” Sovik’s eyes were still closed and his voice was raspy and low, but he was conscious now. It was alarming that he hadn’t slipped into a trance, but consciousness at least meant he was stable for now. “You hadn’t held my hand like this since mother died.”

Serik blinked, unsure of what he meant until he looked at their joined hands. He had not even noticed. Had the doctor seen? “Given the Vulcan context, it would be inappropriate to indulge in such physical contact after adolescence; however, we are not on Vulcan and my hands lack the appropriate nerves.”

Sovik went silent, his breathing evening out as if he had fallen asleep again, so it was startling when he spoke, “How is our nu’ri-trensu?”

“Since your incapacitation, Kirk has taken over the ship. He placed his pawns well and his resources run deeper than we had thought. For now, he has recruited my aid in exchange for nu’ri-trensu’s safety.”

“You are angry,” Sovik said calmly. Too calm for the normally emotional Vulcan. Perhaps he lacked the energy.

“There are no words to describe the emotions I am feeling. Anger is only but the surface and my hatred runs deep. He has harmed Spock, and he is responsible for your condition. When I locate where he has hidden our master, I will devise a way to escape.”

“Escape where, Dinam? We are only three, and the nu’ri-trensu will not leave his duties unattended. Vulcan may have abandoned him, but he has not abandoned Vulcan.”

Serik tightened his grip on Sovik’s hand, just short of causing him pain. “What are we to do? Kirk will undoubtedly try to kill him once the opportunity presents itself as convenient or perhaps find a worse fate for him.”

“I do not agree.”

“You rarely do.”

The door hissed open and Serik released his hand before the doctor presented himself. “Alright, you’re free to go assimilate data or whatever else you robots do.”

“I wish to stay here for a while longer,” Serik said.                                         

McCoy’s face twisted in wariness and dissatisfaction, no doubt thinking about Kirk. He had overheard the instruction that Serik was not allowed to communicate with his brother and was to be removed if Sovik woke up. Sovik was careful in regulating his body so his vitals didn’t change on the monitor, but it was possible to have been overheard as well.

McCoy looked like he would refuse, but an opportunistic grin brightened his normally scowling features. “Only if you help me with an experiment I had in mind.”

Serik’s lips thinned in annoyance. “Very well.”

“Five minutes,” the closed the door behind him.

“The doctor is malicious when it comes to his experiments,” Sovik replied.

“He cannot cause permanent damage else he runs the risk of angering Kirk. Kirk at the moment appears . . . unstable.”

“I shall take responsibility. I had provoked him. I truly thought Kirk seeing the young master take another as his sexual partner would make him realize his place. Instead, I forced his hand and perhaps harmed Spock in the process.”

“Spock’s current position has little to do with your revenge schemes as childish as it may have been. We had all underestimated him. Only you were wary after the death of Lester.”

“That day, nu’ri-trensu was not functional. He was distracted, unfocused on his work, and lacked energy. He acted as if he was in despair or mourning a loss.” Sovik slowly opened his eyes and looked at his brother. “What if we were looking at this wrong? We had assumed our sa-fu was acting on his human side, but what if it was the other.”

“I know what you are suggesting, but it is improbable. If it was the case, Kirk is clearly unaffected.”

“Is he?” Sovik lifted his hand and stared at the finger tips deep in thought. “We know our master, but humans are still a mystery to us. What would Spock do given the current events?”

Serik paused long enough to think up the scenarios and calculate their probabilities. “Given his tendencies, he’d mentally shield himself. Rely on his kolinahr training to stop the hurt.”

“If they have something, a connection, he would block it.”

Serik shook his head lightly. “He is not a healer. To make a bond he would have to consciously try, and with a psynull human, it would be even more difficult.”

“Spock has always been a strong telepath, and Spock has engaged in many joining with Kirk in a very short period. If they are t’hy’la…”

“This would not have happened,” Serik interrupted.

“Perhaps not, but if there is, it would not have been properly formed. Spock’s actions will affect Kirk.”

“You are saying to forgive his transgressions after harming our master just because he may be t’hy’la?”

“No, but it is worth investigating to know where he stands with our master. At this moment, he holds the power, and on this ship, it is the only thing worth noting. If there is a connection, we may be able to take advantage of it.”

Serik sighed softly. “Your logic is flawed as usual, but I will wait as you suggested.  However, I will not forgive him.”

“Nor will I.”

The door opened once again, a look of disapproval on the doctor’s face as he looked between them. “Time’s up.”

It hadn’t been five minutes, but arguing would have been unproductive and fruitless. “Rest and regain your strength. If I am permitted, I will visit.”

Sovik didn’t respond, having closed his eyes. For the best. Whatever the doctor had planned wouldn’t be pleasant, but the extra time had been adequate for the exchange. His mind was better focused than before, and he now had a clear objective while he was forced to wait for an opportunity.

 Doctor McCoy led him to an examination table and ordered him to lay down. He could only hope that the wait would not be too long.

* * *

The second day went smoother. Mostly because Jim did not have to be on the bridge. He spent the time finishing reports and getting Serik’s approval on them and reviewing what he had learned so far. Serik’s attitude had remained consistent throughout their interactions, yet Jim swore something was different. It was just once or twice, but the weight of Serik’s gaze had become scorching. It was enough to send the hair on the back of Jim’s neck standing on end. The only thing stopping him from calling in additional guards was the lack of malicious intent. It was more scientific than malevolent, similar to Spock’s curious gazes, but colder.

Setting the issue with Serik aside, Jim still had the duty the admiral had ordered him to complete. After getting the daily duties out of the way, he called Giotto, Farrell and Vo to the ready room, having Serik wait outside. Jim was waiting in his chair, reading over the report for the fourth time, ensuring he knew the details of the assignment before the meeting started.

“I assume each of you have read the assignment I forwarded to you.” The three men nodded their heads, taking a seat around the table. Vo sat on his left, Farrell on his right, and Giotto across. “So, gentlemen, tell me your thoughts.”

“It’s obvious they expect you to fail,” Vo said pulling up the mission details on the screen for everyone to see. “Captain Spock had collected information from Starbase 6. The information distributed showed that not only did they have a wealthy benefactor, but had managed to swipe powerful ships as well. “

“Theoretically, the Enterprise should be able to outmaneuver most ships as it is the newest and most advanced ship in the fleet. In the hands of a good captain of course,” Giotto said, glancing at Kirk as he spoke.

“Trying to say something Giotto?” Farrell growled.  

“The captain can handle it,” Vo said, flipping through the contents, diffusing a fight before it could start. “I think he’s shown his capabilities in person more than once to us, hasn’t he?”

“It’s different than commanding a Starship.”

“Giotto is right,” Jim said leaning forward to place his elbows onto the table. “I am new. He should have some doubt,” his words were casual with a polite smile on his lips. “As long as he doesn’t work against me.” The underlying threat was clear as day however, making the hardened security officer uncomfortable enough to look away.

“Going in with guns blazing should be a last resort however,” Vo continued. “Even if the captain was the best strategist in the known universe and all of time, success in a direct assault would be low, and the mission states that the rebels are to be eradicated. That would insinuate that Headquarters wishes to have the planet completely destroyed.”

“In order to do that, the Enterprise would have to stay in position for the minimum of 25 seconds to gather enough energy and target critical areas of the planet to destroy it. We’d have to deal with their planetary defense system entirely to employ that tactic.” Farrell said, writing furiously on his PADD.

“No,” Jim narrowed his eyes in thought. “It’s an Class K planet. Without pressure domes and terraforming, humanoid life cannot sustain. It’s why the Empire overlooked this planet for so long. No one could have predicted they would have enough money to create a base on such a planet. Their planetary defenses will be sufficient but it can’t be too extravagant else it would arise suspicion if an Empire vessel wandered too close.”

“It does make the target easier. We'd only have to destroy the system that keeps them alive. It may be even easier if there is only one base on the entire planet,” Giotto murmured.

“We still have to take out their defenses. I will not allow a single rebel to escape,” Jim scrolled down on his PADD. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the said in unison saluting.

Satisfied, Jim listened to their ideas, taking them and morphing them into something useable for him to use. Only an idiot didn’t listen to others and use their ideas, but only a fool wouldn’t morph it into their own style to meet their abilities. It was one of his favorite parts of plan making. The ability to turn a situation or problem into something manageable or favorable. It also allowed him to gain insight about those around him. Farrell was rather straightforward and honest and his plans reflected that, urging Jim to do a frontal assault. Vo was much more calculating and structured, presenting ideas of drawing the enemy away from their home base.

Giotto showed more restraint than the other two, suggesting a more wait and see approach, edging on the more cautious side. The man’s age and experience shined through as lack of information was the most dangerous thing to a captain and his ship. However, Giotto’s plan was discarded immediately. There wasn’t enough time to sit back and gather data. The ship would arrive at its destination with a day to spare. Waiting would make them rush later and too much depended on not making a mistake.

Their points of view were invaluable, and he had an idea of how he wanted to proceed. With three days to perfect it, he was sure to keep to the Empire’s standards, so he dismissed the meeting, gathering his PADDs and tape decks into a neat stack.

“Captain, if I may have a word?”

Jim looked up. Giotto stood before him, hands carefully behind his back and a stern militaristic expression on his face. In the corner of his eye, Jim noticed Vo had stopped from leaving as Farrell had already taken his leave for the night. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sir, I just wanted to confirm whether or not you were aware of the sudden disappearances of some of the crew.”

“Disappearances amongst the crew?” Jim inquired leaning forward with faux interest. “Tell me more.”

Jim’s tone set the officer on alert but continued ahead as if he hadn’t noticed. “There are no traces of the individuals that had gone missing, no evidence of them abandoning their posts or even of a murder attempt or cover up. They simply stopped existing, items having been dropped in favor of whatever has happened to them. These individuals were also known to have actively spoken out against you…” Giotto trailed off as Jim’s unwavering attention gave him goosebumps and an unpleasant chill. “I was curious if you knew of what happened to them so I may formally put it into the databanks as to the cause of death.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what happened to them,” Jim lied, and it wasn’t the slightest bit convincing as his polite smile gained a dark tinge. “I mean, if they just up and disappeared from their post, doesn’t that just mean they’re deserters? Who am I to question my guardian angel who’s fulfilling the Empire’s will by disposing of traitors? In that case, there shouldn’t be a question of what to do, isn’t that right, Lieutenant Commander Giotto”

Giotto was visibly sweating but didn’t let his emotions show on his face as he answered, “Of course, sir. I’ll file them as deserters and traitors to the Empire. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Keep up the good work, Giotto.”

Giotto quickly saluted and exited as quickly as he could with measured strides. Vo stepped forward once the door closed, observing Kirk.

“Going to question me as well, Vo?” Jim asked, no longer smiling.

“Not my job to question you, Captain, only guard you and follow orders.”

“Textbook answer. Remind me to give you a reward later.” Jim stood as well, leaving the PADDs where they lay. A yeoman would see to them later, and he needed his hands free when wandering the halls.

Serik was still waiting outside, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothing. Knowing the Vulcan, he probably kept perfect posture and had not moved a muscle since Jim entered over an hour ago. Just the thought put a kink in his back.

He needed to continue his studies with Serik. He needed to, but he didn’t think he could. He felt anxious, like something constantly nagging at the back of his head, and a chill that was persistently bothering him. He wasn’t cold per say, just a slight discomfort that was easy to ignore but still noticeable if there was nothing to occupy his mind. Serik’s staring wasn’t helping either.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it and turned sharply, Serik nearly bumping into him at the sudden stop. “What?!” he demanded, making the Vulcan’s eyebrow raise.

“Pardon?”

“What is it? Why do you keep staring at me?”

Serik regarded him for a moment, his eyes never leaving Kirk’s. Then he moved forward, hand extended, reaching out towards Kirk’s face. Jim reactively put his hand on his phaser as did Vo, but Serik’s hand retreated with a white piece of paper in his hand. On closer inspection, it was a clothes tag. “A captain must always keep a neat and tidy appearance,” he said flawlessly as if he hadn’t almost been shot. “I was unsure of how to inform you that the information tag on your clothes had been showing without appearing offensive.”

“Next time just tell me,” Jim growled, turning away. Now he really didn’t want to work with Serik today, and that anxiety in the back of his head was more noticeable.

Trying to think up any excuse he could to get out of it, he saw Marlena Moreau standing outside his door. Really, the woman was shameless and kept up her reputation. When Spock had become captain, she had tried to seduce him and now she was here ready to do the same to him. Like he would want Pike’s disgusting leftovers.

A venomous insult was on the tip of his tongue when he took in her appearance. Dark silky hair, pale skin, dark brown eyes. He found his fists clenching at his sides. It was okay wasn’t it. It had been a long time since he held a woman. It wasn’t like Spock owned him anymore.

“Serik you can leave for the day. I’ll see you tomorrow morning to go over the reports.”

Serik looked between him then Marlena, and Jim couldn’t care less. He didn’t care if the entire ship knew that he planned to bring her into his bed. He didn’t have to hide anymore. Didn’t have to live with the humiliation of being dominated by a man and being thought of as a slut by Spock if he flirted with someone else.

So he went up to her, flirted with her, gave her a seductive smile that would make most weak at the knees. It was ridiculously easy to pull her into his room. No challenge, no banter, no fight. Just the way he liked it.

* * *

Should have liked it. God, he used to love easy women. And yet, he felt revolted, sick even, at Marlena’s compliance. They had barely made it to the bed before he jolted back in disgust. She didn’t taste right, didn’t feel right. With anger, he threw her out of his room after only a few minutes.

His next three dark hair beauties he invited hadn’t felt much better. No matter how they approached him, talked to him, tried to pleasure them, it felt so wrong he nearly hit the last one. Each revulsion seemed stronger than the last and each one left him feeling colder. The once negligible chill was now a constant presence and his growing anxiety was starting to become a hindrance.

His temper was becoming shorter, mistakes made by others, whether within their control or not, pissing him off to no end. The crew had begun to take notice. Outwardly, his command was noticeably better, and Serik was correcting him and covering for his mistakes less often. He had almost perfected the outward appearance of a captain. Behind the scenes, he was still having Serik do a lot of the work as he continued his crash course lessons, and his department head friends were taking on a few additional tasks to help him out. The thought of the prolonged help only served to fuel his discomfort and therefore anger.

Serik’s sudden observations of him was adding to his piling stress. Sure, the Vulcan didn’t stare at him directly since confronting him after the strategy meeting three days ago, but Jim could still feel the gaze directed at the back of his head. Serik was looking for weakness probably. They all were. He could only rely on himself as he had always done. A moment of weakness and they’d tear him apart like the hyenas they were, foaming at the mouth and waiting for their chance to strike.

With the excessive amount of rage harboring within his body, Jim often found himself fatigue as well, finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning and using the lingering elated feelings of finally being free to motivate him. It was hardly enough to compensate for his mood swings from anger to…whatever this other emotion was. He didn’t know what to call it.

Rubbing his hand over his face and convincing himself of the need to get ready for the day, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge. He was still sleeping in his old quarters. He felt secure in them with the Tantalus Field nearby. The computer terminal next to his bed was reading his duties for the day to him, informing him that Sovik was ready to be discharged from medbay and that Starfleet had sent responses to the reports he sent along with a reminder that he had 26 hours to complete his mission.

Sovik would be sent to the brig until he could figure out what to do with him. He really didn’t want to deal with that jackass until his position was secure. Serik wouldn’t be able to complain about it either. Shuffling his feet to the mirror, he inputted the code and waited for the Tantalus Field to start up. Once active, he inputted the name. The name he found himself typing every morning and most nights.

Spock was still chained, now sporting the beginnings of a beard. He hadn’t moved or spoken according to the guard or team responsible for cleaning Spock up twice a day. His face looked a bit thinner as well. Had he been eating? It didn’t seem like it even though Jim made sure to order 3 meals a day for him. Maybe he should try plomeek soup. If he didn’t get fluids him at least, Spock would fade too quickly. Was kreyla too dry then? It was high in calories so just getting him to eat a little bit would help though it might dehydrate him more.

Every time he’d watch Spock through the screen, similar thoughts crossed his mind until he identified it for what it was. In response, he’d shut the field down, ranting about how Spock didn’t deserve any pity from him. That it was his fault for being locked up in the first place and letting his guard down knowing how dangerous he was. This was how this universe worked. The strong survived. He was not in the wrong.

But if he wasn’t wrong, then why did he avoid McCoy, unable to look him in the eye like a guilty child? Why was he preferring the solitude of his room rather than helping Scotty in engineering to take off the edge? Why did he even care?

This morning was no different from the others. He got angry and shut down the field, ranting to himself until it was time to go to the bridge where the shift dragged on until he was at the end of his shortening tolerance.

Finally, enough was enough. He couldn’t keep bottling his emotions. He was at the end of his rope. Surely Spock had come to his senses by now. He’d want to know how Sovik and Serik was. He couldn’t keep that emotionless mask forever. Spock was too human for that.

Brushing off his guards, he headed back into engineering, ignoring the concerned and disapproving glare of his chief engineer, making his way into the depths of machinery and workstations. The guard, upon seeing him, saluted and opened the door for him before Jim had a chance to come to even come to a stop.

He appreciated the expediency. He wanted to see him. Surely after being kept in confinement he’d say something this time around.

“Seems you’re holding up in solitary confinement well enough, not that I’d expect it to have any effect on you.” He sat down in the chair, once again finding himself waiting for Spock to answer him. “But it doesn’t mean you have to starve yourself to death. Serik might actually try to kill me if I let that happened.”

Indeed, today wasn’t any different than the last. Spock remained silent. At that, Jim lost his temper, jumping from his chair and closing in on him like a predator. “Do you still see yourself as a prince, Spock? Too good to talk to ne now that I know who you really are?” He sneered.

It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong! WRONG! Grabbing a fist full of black hair, he pulled Spock’s hair, forcing the Vulcan’s head to tilt up. “Look at me!”

Spock’s eyes finally met with his, but they were no different than the first day. His brown eyes were just as cold and barren. Seeing that look, the anxiety in him intensified until his hands began to shake. Before he knew it, his fist had struck Spock.

Spock’s head snapped to the side sharply from the impact, blood dripping from his mouth.  Then he turned his head slowly, meeting Kirk’s gaze again with that same look.

No.

Jim hit him again. Only to have the same result.

No. Get angry.

Jim gripped his hair pulling the Vulcan up to knee Spock in the stomach.

Get frustrated. Ask for forgiveness.

It didn’t matter what. He needed some reaction. Anything. He didn’t care if Spock hated him or cursed him. As long as it was something. As long as he didn’t keep looking through him as if he didn’t exist. He needed a reaction.

“Why won’t you say something?!” He nearly screamed, striking him the last time. His hand had gone numb, his knuckles split and bleeding.

His breathing labored, Jim wiped the blood that had splattered onto his face with the back of his hand, turning away. What else could he do? Nothing was working.

“There is no logic in speaking when it will not bring forth results.”

Jim twirled around at the sound of the Vulcan’s voice, raspy from disuse.

“If you wished for me to speak, you should have asked.”

Even through words, Jim couldn’t read anything from Spock, and reality hit him like cold water, seeping into his bones and knocking the air out of his lungs.

“What do you wish for me to say?”

What did he want him to say?

Jim took a step back towards the door. Spock was still staring at him expectantly, waiting for instructions.

“Kirk?”

His mouth worked wordlessly unable to speak. So he did the only thing he could. He ran. He fled the room. He fled as fast as he could, dodging the questioning engineer waiting for him, shouldering past him in his haste.

His body wouldn’t stop shaking. His hands burned. Every drop of green blood feeling like shackles. _What do you wish for me to say?_ He knew exactly what he wanted Spock to say. Something Spock would never say to him. And that knowledge was suffocating him.

Feeling someone watching him, he looked around spotting Serik holding a bunch of PADDs eyeing him. He didn’t know when, but at some point, Jim had left the engineering section of the ship and was now lingering near the door.

Scrapping together what was left of his dignity, he straightened himself and attempted to walk away as if he was okay. But he knew he wasn’t. Not while Spock was still alive.

Serik watched the young captain walk away, not that he could call the young human that in his state. The human was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. His eyes tinged red and on the verge of tears. His face was conflicted with shifting emotions. Serik doubted even the human understood what he was feeling.

It seemed Sovik may have been onto something. That seemed irrelevant however. He hadn’t missed the green blood on the captain’s hands. Serik’s eyes drifted to the door leading to engineering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you all can rant about it, the next chapter will open up with Spock's thoughts, so you can understand what he's doing.


	27. Frozen Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Taking 21 credits this semester so lots going on. After rereading previous chapters, I noticed a lot of mistakes. Why didn't you guys tell me? I do try to catch them, but I obviously suck at self editing. I feel so embarrassed.

The world is always clearer in hindsight. Kirk’s betrayal wasn’t unexpected and neither was Spock’s current predicament. Kirk had always been intelligent and charismatic. When the human stepped onto the bridge. The shock was minimal. It was a cold reality.

Minutes before the betrayal he had wondered what he should have done differently. If ignoring the wrong he had done to the man he had fallen for was the right thing. When Kirk stepped onto that bridge, his face hard and distant, Spock had been torn. On one side, he was self-depreciating. What could he expect from a human? His mother had killed his father, so of course Kirk would take the chance to betray him in a heartbeat. Letting his guard down and allowing the human to get away with what he knew to be sketchy activity, he deserved the captain’s seat to be taken from him. On the other side, he felt it to be a form of penitance. Jim’s hurt face that night flashed across his vision when their eyes had connected. He deserved to have Kirk’s hatred.

Those thoughts lasted a second, maybe two. The resulting emotions were strong, overwhelming and in that moment, he was drowning in them, so he did the only thing he could to stay in control, lock them all away behind the carefully constructed barrier he had developed in his previous attempts to reach kolinahr.

The barrier had always been a temporary one, not meant to be a lasting state. Kolinahr was the purging of emotion, not locking them all away. However, he was close. Every day, the barrier grew stronger, more rigid, and the emotions behind it were slowly fading into nothing.

If he was willing to feel, he would be happy about this predicament. He was a step closer to being a true Vulcan. No one would be able to say he had human eyes, and he would no longer feel guilt or shame about his heritage. He could finally allow full logic to dictate his actions.

So after being held prisoner, deep within the engineering department, he kept himself in meditation to maintain his current state of mind while trying to deduce what would happen to him. Kirk hated him. Logically, Kirk would have him tortured, experimented on, sold off, or killed. It was only a matter of time. Chances of escape were low. Serik and Sovik were probably held hostage and his operatives would probably change loyalty with the right incentives. No help would come. All he could do was wait for a chance to escape on his own or for his fate.

Kirk’s first visit had been expected. Humans liked to gloat. Less than 24 hours and sure enough, the human came in. Given his new captain status, Kirk’s knowledge of his background wasn’t unexpected either.

During that meeting, Kirk was once again expressive with his emotions and highly unstable, morphing from quiet and patient to angry and restless to cruel and calculating in an instant. Having known Kirk for 106 days at this point, he knew there was some underlying cause for his behavior, usually when something was out of the human’s control and not going his way. Kirk should have had everything he wanted, and yet he seemed upset about something Spock was doing.

Either way, Spock did not expect to see Kirk a second time. Once Kirk left, he closed his eyes and continued his meditation.

None of the expected torture came. Someone came to deliver his food, and someone came to clean him from his excrements. He was knocked unconscious for the later, but he was treated rather humanly. No one bothered him.

When Kirk came back, it was unexpected, and he could not predict what he could possibly want. Information? His wealth? Torture? Kirk’s actions made less sense than his words. There seemed no apparent reason for to come. Being compliant only seemed to anger the human to the point Kirk resorted to unnecessary violence.

Even being beaten, Spock could not get angry, but he did value self-preservation. The moment Kirk gave him a hint of what he wanted, he gave it to him. Kirk seemed astonished that Spock would behave. Hadn’t he been the model prisoner since his capture? Then various emotions flitted across his face as Spock asked, “What do you wish for me to say?”

Pain. The same pain that had been present the night Kirk walked in on him with Kalomi. The barrier that had been put into place wavered and a single emotion seeped through the cracks in response to Kirk’s presence. Something in him was being drawn to Kirk in reply to the human’s pain. With each unsteady step towards the door, that emotion stretched and flurried from the crack in attempts to follow Kirk’s retreating figure, but Spock stopped it from going any further. He refused to identify the feeling, instead shoving it back behind the fractured wall and covering the cracks with hasty repair.

The emotion didn’t stay complacent as it had before, barging against his shields insistently with the other emotions backing it. But he was determined to keep the calm, and slowly, the barrage faded into a dull knock after several hours.

It was rather inconvenient that Kirk managed to crack what had been a solid barrier. Temporary as it may have been, it had previously shown no signs of weakening. Not until Kirk walked into the room.  Why? Why did Kirk always stir his emotions and tempt him to put logic aside.

Spock spit the blood pooling in his mouth to the side. Bruises were already blooming on his face if the sting was any indication. Kirk would most likely not come again. There would be no reason for him to. But for some reason, he knew Kirk would come back. He didn’t know when or why, but something inside him told him that he would be back. It was just a matter of time.

* * *

Jim closed the door behind him, willing his body to stop shaking. The blood. He had to wash the blood off first. Almost tripping over his feet, he made his way to the head, shoving his hands under the faucet. With morbid fascination, he watched the water take an emerald hue, swirling down the drain before turning pink from his own blood.

What was wrong with him? After everything, how could he want that from him? He threw that chance away. Jim had thought he had understood that. And yet, here he was.

The intercom whistle drew him out of his thoughts and away from the sink. With a fist, he banged against the button as leaned against the wall, answering with a sharp, “What?”

“Sir, we arrived at our destination. We need you in the ready room to approve the final plans.”

Shit. “I’ll be there in a minute, Farrell. Kirk, out.”

He switched the intercom off and sagged further. The shaking had stopped, but not the thoughts. He couldn’t keep on like this. He knew that. He had to get himself together. This sick obsession with Spock had to stop, but the women he invited to his bed had just made it worse.

He chuckled weakly, rubbing a hand through his hair. Maybe the gender was the problem. All he really knew was, Spock ruined him. Fuck that pointy eared bastard. His lower half seemed to agree.

Banging his head against the bulkhead, he forced himself to change clothes, so he could go to the ready room with a clean uniform. His mind was still heavy from his revelation, and his fatigue had compounded within the past half hour as a result. His mood wavered between anger and depression by the time he entered the ready room, drawing the attention of the occupants.

“Are you alright, Kirk?” Farrell asked, seemingly concerned over his wellbeing. Being the person he was, Farrell probably meant it, but it came off to Jim as a probe to search for a weakness.

Forcing a smile, he waved off the question and took the center seat. “What have our long-range sensors picked up?”

Serik placed a PADD in front of him. “Our sensors indicate that most of the fleet is hidden on the asteroids that orbit the planet. Because of the magnetic field, it is difficult to pinpoint exactly, but it will slow their reactions to us. As we are just outside their sensor range, they will not notice us until we breach their field. We will reach our main target destination in 23 seconds after we become in range. It will take at least 2 minutes to put your plan into full effect. However, the closest ships can engage in battle with us within 24. 3 seconds if my calculations are correct. Also, Starfleet ensured us that encryption 2 had been decoded by the enemy and to be avoided.”

“Can we charge primary phaser banks on our way there?” Jim asked.

“Not recommendable. The engines will be strained further if we do,” Scotty said, frowning. “We’re going to take damage no matter what we do.”

“I’ll trust you’ll keep us up and running Scotty during the battle. Our main priority is to take care of the base. Ships come secondary.”

“Yes, Captain,” the all said in unison.

They all disbanded, heading towards the bridge except for Jim, sinking into his chair. After today he would either be dead or permanently promoted as captain. For once, it was nice worry about something else other than the Vulcan he had locked in his figurative basement.

“You seem tired, Kirk.”

Vo’s sudden voice nearly made him jump. Jim had thought everyone had left. Silently he berated himself for not keeping better track of his surroundings. “Long night.”

“So it seems,” Vo said skeptically. “Perhaps if you didn’t keep trying to bring people back to your room?”

Not like they stayed long. Vo knew that since he kept guard, so what was he suggesting? Jim really couldn’t focus on it, but making Vo an enemy by snapping at him would make it worse. “Let’s just focus on the mission.”

“I am focused. The question is, are you?”

No. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

Vo escorted him to the bridge, Serik already getting the ship into position to start their assault. Speaking of which, why was Serik down near engineering earlier. The jobs Jim had given him wouldn’t have led him to that area. Great, something else to add to his pile of worries.

Sitting in the captain’s chair, Jim sat with his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward. “Alright, Chekov, max impulse power. Activate red alert. Everyone get ready for combat.”

“Aye, sir.” Chekov chimed.

Jim stared at the viewscreen intensely, almost holding his breath. His plan was reckless as usually, but they had neither than man power or the time to come up with something better.

“We are within sensor range captain,” Serik said from his post at the science station.

So the game was truly beginning, they wouldn’t be able to back out now.

“Captain, reading on the right, approaching quickly.”

“What type of ship?”

“Romulan light cruiser.”

“Keep heading towards the planet. Chekov, if you have a clear shot, take it. We need to enter the asteroid field.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The ship shook from impact. “Port side hit, shield down 10 percent.”

“Two more ships approaching astern. One of them is a heavy cruiser.”

“Target the heavy cruiser with photon torpedoes, make sure that ship doesn’t have time to lock on to us.”

The ship rocked again, causing a few of the security guards to fall over. “Port shield down to 20 percent. Damages reported from decks 3 to 7.”

“Captain, shields on port can’t take another hit.”

“Reroute unnecessary power to port shields,” Kirk ordered.  “How much longer until we reach the field?”

“ETA 30 seconds,” Chekov chimed.

The ship shook again. This time Jim did fall out of his seat and the navigator station sparked, causing the young ensign sitting at the station to scream in pain as his hands and part of his face and chest took damage.

“Take Ensign Riley to the infirmary.” Jim shouted, getting to his feet and pulling the young man up to hand him off to a guard. “Someone take his place now!”

“Sir, we have a hull breach in engineering,” Serik yelled over the chaos.

“Entering the asteroid field, Keptin,” Chekov said.

Good, they survived so far. The ship could out maneuver the heavy Klingon cruiser in the field, leaving the smaller ships to worry about.

“Sir, more rebel ships approaching. Another Klingon heavy cruiser and four light cruisers. Two imperial, one Romulan, and one Klingon.” Serik informed. “I recommend we retreat.”

“Recommendation ignored.” The ship shook again. Jim could smell something burning. It smelled like an electrical fire, but there was little he could do about it now other than hope whatever it was didn’t explode. There was definitely more ships than he was expecting.

“Uhura, we’re sending a message encryption 2.” Jim ordered.

“Shield’s down to 15 percent, Captain!”

“Life support for imperial cruiser hit. Romulan cruiser has been disabled.”

“Sir, encryption 2 is-“ Uhura stopped midsentence at the dangerous look he gave her.

“Open channel, encryption 2,” he repeated.

“Yes, sir.” She flipped a few switches and nodded for his go ahead.

“To Starfleet Headquarters and any Empire ship within this vicinity. This is Captain Kirk of the _ISS Enterprise_. We have taken heavy damage. Knowing this was a futile mission, we have stored carbomite in our cargo bay. Once our matter/anti-matter chamber explodes, it will set off the carbomite, destroying everything within 50 parsecs. Due to the nature of this substance,this area should be avoided for the next century. Let it be known that the _Enterprise_ , completed its mission to the empire, destroying the rebel home world. We are honored to have served the Empire.”

Halfway through his message, the attacks stopped, and Jim couldn’t help but smile a bit. Pressing the button on the chair, he said almost happily, “Scotty, work your magic.”

He barely heard the standard, “Aye, Captain,” walking towards the view screen.

“Power levels are rising in engineering,” Serik said. “There is instability in the matter/anti-matter chamber.”

“Captain, ships in the area are retreating.” No doubt because their sensors were picking up the rising power levels as well.

“Good. Keep maneuvering closer to the planet. Calculate targets to destroy the planet. Inform me when they are out of sensor range.”

“Klingon heavy cruiser, taken heavy hit by an asteroid and our photon torpedoes. Warp engines seem to be out.”

“Finish them off, Checkov.”

Well, it wasn’t perfect. There would be some survivors, but it was the best he would be able to do on short notice without further time.

“Matter/Antimatter chamber is reaching critical mass.”

“Tell Scotty to fix it and reroute spare power to photon canon. Serik, anyone in the area?”

“No sir. There are 336 life forms on the planet according to our sensors, but the ships have cleared the area.”

“Chekov, take out that planet.”

“With pleasure,” Ensign Chekov said with a smirk. “Firing photon canon.”

Jim turned his back to the view screen, not bothering to witness the mayhem the planet meeting its end. He succeeded. The admiral would be forced to keep his word in making him captain and all the rewards that come with it. And yet….

His eyes wondered to the science station only to have Serik look back at him. Quickly, he avoided the man’s eyes, looking away.

Everything after that went like clockwork with report pouring in. Damage reports, casualty reports, repair schedules. Jim only listened with half an ear. The immediate danger had passed, but while still in enemy territory it was best to pay attention until they could leave. He stayed on the bridge long enough to confirm destruction of the planet before passing command to Serik.

Twenty crew members were killed and there was strain on the engines after forcing them to almost overload. The bright side was thanks to Scotty’s skills and stubbornness that more weren’t killed since the engineer was selective in who he allowed in engineering. However, if they tried to go to warp without either attending to the engines they would be blown across the galaxy. Until they could get those engines up and running, they were still sitting ducks.

Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly. Now that the adrenaline had died down, he was feeling exhausted, like all the energy had been drained out of him. Sex. That’s all he needed. Problem was that any woman he brought to his bed made him angry and nauseous.

As he got onto the turbo lift, barely realizing Vo had followed him off the bridge, another crew member stepped on last minute. He was a communication officer. Tall, slim, pale skin, and dark hair. Maybe if he was in blue….and a woman, but then again, women didn’t seem to work.

The man got off on deck 6, and Jim watched him leave.

“Will I be telling Ferrell that he’ll be needed tonight?”

Jim was silent for a long time then the doors opened. “Yeah,” was his only reply before walking off.

* * *

It was almost like home, Sulu thought as he licked the blood off his lips. Well the agony booth was nothing to laugh at, but at least it wasn’t torture. Not that there was any information that animal fucker would want from him. Still didn’t stop a few people who had it out for him to stop by and show him their feelings with their fists or in one case with their dick.

Really all of this was routine. Just because he was Japanese everyone thought he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Japan wasn’t the great shining utopia everyone thought it was. It might have been true for the elites, but the fallen elites were treated lower than slaves. A disgraced existence who should commit seppuku out of shame.

But he was a survivor. He’d suck cock if it meant he could get something out of it. Whore, slut, those terms were endearing to him because it meant he was alive. Sure enough, out of those he serviced he found a wealthy benefactor who was willing to lend him a hand. Sex was a convenient tool to get one’s way. Hell, he’d gladly be a sex slave if he wasn’t forced back on the streets of his homeland. As long as he was alive, he’d climb back up. Might as well enjoy the sex while he could.

He was just cleaning up the dried cum from his body with his shirt when the door to the brig opened yet again. Who was it this time, he wondered. Maybe it was another wannabe rapist. He almost laughed at that. Well you couldn’t rape the willing.

“Vipe that smirk off, Hikaru. It’s creepy,” came the heavy Russian accent.

“Just makes me want to smirk more.” Sulu dropped the shirt to the floor and looked at his new guest. Chekov had sauntered in, arms crossed, looking very annoyed and leaning against the panel that opened the cell. “Miss me, Pavel?”

The young man scoffed. “I miss you as much as a hernia.”

“Funny thing to say when you were moaning my name so prettily only a week ago,” Sulu looked over Chekov with hungry eyes. “Want to come in and have a go at me too?”

“Maybe.” Chekov leaned forward, giving him a bit of a smirk of his own. “But first, I have something to say. Something about getting back at Kirk?”

Sulu laughed. “You work quick, Pavel. I have to hand it to you. You fucked me over for Kirk last week and now you’re ready to rake him over the coals.”

“Vhat can I say, I have goals. As do you, Hikaru.” Chekov held up a key card on a lanyard, swinging it around his finger. “Though it involves inviting someone aboard.”

“Oh?” Sulu interest was piqued. Standing, he went as close to the barrier as he could. “Who is it?”

Chekov smiled mischievously. “You know, you are kind of attractive with that new scar.”

Sulu growled, no longer in the mood for games with the chance to get back at the person who ruined his plans and disfigured his face. “Tell me, Pavel.”

Chekov moved from his spot, walking up to the barrier. Chekov knew how to tightrope between innocent and manipulative.  He made sure to draw Sulu’s gaze with every step, stopping an inch from touching the barrier. The words that left the kid’s soft lips, made Sulu’s mouth drop.

“Is that right,” he drawled out, smiling once again. “How long?”

“48 hours. Maybe more.”

“Should I look forward to some fun until then?”

Chekov, looked him over, no doubt taking in his cuts and bruises. “Let me talk to a guard.”

Chekov turned, giving Sulu a chance to admire his behind as he left. That was a tempting piece of jailbait, and Sulu wasn’t talking about his age either.  Still, who would have guessed he’d get his chance for revenge so soon. “48 hours, huh.” Sulu took a seat on his cot. He waited this long, he supposed he could wait a little while longer.

* * *

Well, he got off…. kind of. Jim stepped out of the sonic shower, washing off the sex as soon as possible. He made it to the end with that communication ensign. Jim didn’t bother to ask for a name. It would have ruined the illusion he was still trying to deny having. The illusion that the ensign had pointed ears and was able to hold him down easily.

Half way through, that illusion broke, but he managed to get through it, and somehow, he was more sexually frustrated than before. He was colder than before too. He almost reached for a sweater before realizing he needed to stay in uniform. He had already raised the temperature in his room up 10 degrees Celsius, yet it hadn’t helped.

The moment he sat down, the intercom wailed, making him glare at the device. Up again, he banged against the button. “What?”

“Hey, kid. Come down to my office. Need to talk to you,” McCoy sounded cranky over the speaker. He was a bit surprised McCoy was even calling him. From the last report, there were around 80 people in sickbay that had to be treated from a range of different injuries. McCoy was in for a long night, and if he knew the cranky doctor, he wouldn’t want to be bothered.

So he assumed it would be important. He was in sickbay within minutes of the call, only to see McCoy waiting for him in his office, a cigarette in his hand and a glass of bourbon on his desk. “Sit down, kid.”

“Must be bad. I didn’t even know you smoked,” Jim leaned forward to grab a cigarette from the carton and held it to McCoy’s to light it.

“Only on the shitty days.” McCoy replied exhaling.

“Isn’t that every day?” he joked half-heartedly.

The doctor didn’t retort to his lame attempt at a joke, his sharp blue eyes examining him as if he was a patient. It was putting him on edge.  “What is it?”

“You haven’t come by recently for me to patch you up from your active sex life.”

“So? Thought you would be happy about that.” He took a long drag from the cigarette, paused, then expelled the smoke slowly.

“I would be if you didn’t look worse than you usually do. So let’s cut the crap.” McCoy leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.”

The shelf behind McCoy’s head suddenly looked very appealing to stare at. “Why would you think anything is wrong?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact I have had four people come to me asking me to talk to you.”

“It’s none of their damn busine─“

“They’re your guards Jim. And Scotty. I’ve been working here for a while now and not once has another crew member come to me worried about the psychological state of someone else. Not without something in return. And you have four.”

“Bones, just drop it,” he snapped.

“Like hell I will!” The doctor stood. Tensing, Jim was ready to go on the defensive when McCoy lost his ire, letting his shoulder sink.  “People care about you, Jim. I know it’s hard to get through that thick skull of yours, but me, Scotty, Farrell, Vo, Phelps we all want to see you succeed, and right now, it looks like you’re drowning. Now, you got through the hard shit, so why aren’t you going and jumping into the sack with your mystery lover or bragging all over the ship and playing cards.”

He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t have any obligation to.  But he didn’t feel like blowing up with his usual anger either. He was just too tired to put the energy into it.

Seeing that Jim was becoming unresponsive, the doctor sighed heavily and downed his glass of alcohol. “Fine. Let’s change the topic then. I came up with a new experiment to try out. I got some interesting data from Serik when I drew his blood. I don’t know if it’s because he’s half Romulan or not, but I want to use Spock in my next one.” He tapped the cigarette against the ash tray, letting the ashes fall. “It’s better to use him instead of letting him waste away in the bowels of the ship.”

“What?” Jim’s voiced cracked, but the doctor didn’t seem to catch it as he continued his rant.

“A Vulcan would make a good subject. He’d probably last a good month or two before he kicks it. That trance of theirs is useful.” Placing the cigarette down, he rolled his chair over his terminal. “Hey Jim, could you authorize it by tomorrow? I’ll give you half the profits of whatever I make off the research.” Jim stomach was sinking with each word. “Perhaps a neurotropic drug will throw off his telepathy long enough to─”

“Touch him, and I’ll have you thrown out the airlock,” Jim snarled. He had partially stood, leaning over the desk, his posture posed for attack.

McCoy couldn’t hide his surprise, his mouth working wordlessly until his thoughts regrouped.

Jim wasn’t in any better shape, caught up in his own surprise caused by his behavior. What was wrong with him?

“Jim, what is wrong with you. It’s just Spock.”

Jim gripped the cigarette he had in his hand until it burned his palm, but even the pain couldn’t hide his expression as he looked away.

“Jim, what the hell is going on? It’s Spock we’re talking about here. You know, the guy you hated and wanted to overthrow. You’re acting like you slept with the guy.”

Jim tried to hide his face, mumbling to himself. “I need to go.”

He only made it a few steps when McCoy jumped out of his seat and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks and cutting off his escape. “Let go, Bones.”

“The hell I will. Are you trying to tell me, the person you’ve been seeing was,” Bones trailed off. He didn’t need to finish when it was as obvious as it was. Releasing his hand, Bone cursed and grabbed for the bottle of bourbon. “Holy shit. The computer? Really? You couldn’t choose something not so hazardous to your health? Like a cactus? Or syphilis?”

When Jim didn’t retort, McCoy’s reaction sobered. “You seriously liked him, didn’t you?”

“There’s something I need to take care of,” Jim said, opening the office door.

“In all seriousness,” the doctor said, making Jim pause long enough to listen. “If you need to talk, I’m here, Jim.”

Jim closed the door behind him. What did they know? What did any one of them know? They were concerned about his health? About his stability? It was a lie. He was fine. He didn’t have regrets. He couldn’t afford to have any.

“Hey you!”

Jim’s patience, too thin to humor someone being rude to him, nearly snapped when he turned around only to see Uhura come marching towards him like a mad man. “What is it Lieutenant?”

“Don’t give me that ‘lieutenant’ shit,” she growled. “Where are you holding Spock?”

Why was Spock coming up again? It was like he couldn’t escape it.  “He’s alive. That’s all you need to know.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she spat, poking his chest with a well-manicured fingernail. “You promised me that he wouldn’t come to harm. That was the only reason that I helped you take over. That, and you promised you would give him to me. So hold up your end of the deal.”

Jim couldn’t contain himself, starting with a small chuckle that gradually grew to outright laughter.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.                                                      

“You. I mean, after everything, you still want to get in his pants even though he has no interest in you. It’s pathetic.”

The lieutenant’s face turned red with embarrassment, but to her credit, she didn’t back down. “You couldn’t possibly know that. You’re just some bitter farm boy who hasn’t been able to get laid since he got on this ship.”

Before Uhura could get her confidence back fully, Jim banged his fist against the wall, narrowly missing her head and trapping her body between the bulkhead and his own. Her body trembled in fear as Jim looked down on her, that playfully cruel smile still on his lips. “You know what’s actually funny, Nyota?” he asked in a sing song voice. “During most of that time you were asking me for my help to get Spock in bed, Spock was fucking me.”

Her eyes began to tear, but Jim wasn’t done. He wanted her to suffer. “So you see, you never had a chance from the beginning, and I had the pleasure of watching you make a fool of yourself vying for his attention over and over again. It was so fucking hilarious, I can’t help but laugh.”

Expecting some sort of attack, Jim jumped back before she could impale him with the knife she had kept in her boot. “I like a woman who’s feisty,” he laughed. “I can ask Spock if he wants a threesome if you want.”

“Go to hell!” she screamed, storming off. Watching the angry woman’s back was exhilarating. It was brief, but he had managed to expel some of the pent-up frustration on her, laughing for the first time in nearly a week.  He couldn’t blame her for falling victim to Spock’s charm. He had too at some point after all.

The light feeling he enjoyed when torturing Uhura quickly faded, and he was left feeling empty once again. He supposed it was a good thing, he told Farrell and Phelps to wait at his quarters when he went to visit Bones. Actually, it was a stupid idea. He shouldn’t be walking alone so soon after climbing to power. He should never be alone unless he was securely locked away in his quarters.

He paused outside the door he had unconsciously walked too. Well he wasn’t ready to go back to his quarters yet, and technically, this room was his now so…

He inputted his captain’s code, opening up the captain’s quarters. The room was stifling hot, having been left in the last setting Spock had set. The heat barely registered with Jim. He was sweating, but he still felt cold, so he let the heat continue running.

The usual smell of Vulcan incense had weakened until there was barely a trace of it left in the air. Everything was neat and tidy just as Spock had left it. The PADDs were still neatly stacked, the books Jim often pulled out back on the bookshelf, the bed made to perfection. It was simultaneously empty yet occupied. It was like Spock could be back any minute and yet it had the feeling as if it had been abandoned by its owner.

His finger ran along the desk, noting the light layer of dust that was forming. This was his room now. He should remove the Vulcan ornaments. The red drapes that decorated the walls would have to be taken down from the sleeping quarters. He could keep the books though. That would be a waste to throw out.

The bed sank under his weight. He should have the Tantalus Field moved here too. Maybe behind the desk. He laid down on the bed, laying on his stomach and burying his face in the pillow. Hmm, Spock’s scent was still there. He inhaled deeply. That spicy and dry scent. Warmth filled his being but only temporarily before he went back to being cold. His sexual frustration flared too, making him uncomfortable and irritable.

But he couldn’t pull himself away. He laid curled up with his pillow unwilling to leave or move. He should at least call for a guard, but that meant he would be pulled away from the tantalizing scent he had grown accustomed to for the past few months. And a few seconds away was too long.

What was wrong with him? If Uhura was pathetic, what did that make him? Aroused and on the brink of depression over him. He chuckled, feeling the reality sink in. What the hell was he going to do?

As if his mind couldn’t fathom the idea of doing anything about it, he grew drowsy. His eyes drifted closed, and he pulled the pillow closer. He dreamt of Spock. holding him, loving him, and whispering sweet words in his ear, promising never to leave his side.

* * *

This really was the only outcome.                                                       

Jim stared at the smooth grey door that had yet to open to his command. He was here. Perhaps for a final time. After his pathetic display the night before, he had to do something. Lifting his hand, he opened the door. This hiss of the door and the lack of lighting was so familiar. It was as if he was just visiting Spock in the middle of the night, but there was no bed, no Vulcan incense, no smoldering heat of the room that made him sweat.

He walked inside and as usual only his footsteps made any sound. Spock’s head was bowed in that sleep like posture, but Jim knew he was awake. He was always awake.

He didn’t sit in the chair nor did he pace. Jim’s movements were lethargic as he came to a stop, his back towards Spock, wondering where to even begin.

“I wasn’t going to betray you, you know,” Jim whispered, but it echoed within the room. “Originally, I was just trying to escape. I was going to leave the ship and be on the run as I’ve always had been. I was just looking for the right opportunity and people who would cover for me.

“The opportunity I found gave me a lot of power, and I hadn’t decided what to do with it yet. That was until I found myself using it to protect you from the admirals.

“I realized then what side I wanted to help. I went to your cabin immediately to tell you everything I had discovered, ready to give you my resources the moment you asked for it only to find her in your bed.”

Jim turned around, his blue eyes staring at the floor in front of Spock. “Stupid, isn’t it? For me to get jealous? I’m the one who said that it wouldn’t last forever, that we’d probably kill each other. But still, I kept wondering afterwards. Was I not good enough, Spock?”

He took the few steps to be standing just inches away from Spock. “Am I the only one ruined? No matter how many blankets or how often I adjust the room temperature, I’m always freezing. No matter who I try to fuck, I’m left unsatisfied and disgusted. Every night, every day, it’s always you. Making me angry, making me hard, making me go crazy. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m constantly restless or fatigued. I can’t keep going like this.”

Why did Spock keep ignoring him? Was baring his soul still not enough? Of course not. He had betrayed Spock too. But he was cold. So unbearable cold. “Look at me?” he asked. Spock looked warm. A funny thing to say since he was usually colder than him, but he found himself, straddling Spock’s lap and burying his face in the crook of the Vulcan’s neck. The anxiety and coldness that had been a constant companion the past week disappearing at the contact. “Look at me,” he said again, quieter this time. He couldn’t bear the thought of Spock looking through him again like he didn’t exist.

He felt Spock lean back underneath him, and his hold around the Vulcan tightened. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You can mind meld with me, fuck me up, I don’t care anymore. Just don’t look through me like I don’t exist anymore.” Anything to prove that Spock needed him, that he wasn’t replaceable like Serik had said. No one had ever needed him or wanted him. He never wanted anyone to. If he was the scum of society, who cared. That way, he only had to take care of himself. But Spock…Spock had always looked at him, knew his worth. Before he knew it, Jim was no longer alone, spending every night with him, talking, laughing, matching wits.

His voice had been muffled against Spock’s shirt, but he knew the Vulcan still heard him. Spock did not need him. Spock would never call for him or need him, and Jim knew, there was nothing he could offer that Spock would ever need or want.

“Jim.”

He snapped his head up, narrowly avoiding hitting his head with Spock’s face with his haste. It wasn’t just his imagination. There had been emotion in Spock’s voice that time.  He met Spock’s eyes for what felt like the first time in a long time. Spock was looking at him with restrained emotions, but they were there. Jim could see it.

“What do you wish for me to say?”

He could feel Spock’s breath against his lips, and he couldn’t help but press closer until his lips were brushing against his, stopping just short. “I want you to say-“

BANG. BANG.

The loud knock on the door had Jim jumping out of Spock’s lap, covering his mouth with his hand in the process.

“Captain. You’re needed in the security room immediately.”

What was with this timing? Jim glanced at Spock then at the door, taking the time to regain his composure. “I’m coming.”

He looked back at Spock. The Vulcan was still looking at him. His gaze was still steady and firm, but there were emotions buried in their depths. In a way, it was comforting. He was in Spock’s sights again, for better or for worse.

He was still lost for words, so he didn’t give Spock a farewell. Just an awkward nod in his direction. Without waiting for acknowledgement from Spock, he left, leaving the coldness behind.

* * *

Chekov hummed, twirling the phaser on his index finger as he waited for the shuttle door to open. He was surprised he got the call so soon. Uhura was more than willing to cooperate, not that she knew what he was up too. She wanted plausible deniability, so she just handed over the transmission without listening to it first. A great fortune for him since the person who was supposed to retrieve the message had ended up in Kirk's bed.

The door opened slowly, and the first occupant came into view. His long, curly, greying hair was tied in a messy pony tail, and his beard was unkempt, just barely long enough to tie off as well. His heavy cream-colored cloak was patched in many places and hid majority of the simple white rob underneath. Besides his upswept eyebrows and the pointed ears, nothing about him drew attention to his heritage, his expressive face and warm smile overshadowing everything else.

The man stepped off the shuttled, followed by ten others. Chekov took quite the pleasure at their disturbed faces, noticing him sitting on a corpse surrounded by four other officers. “You came much quicker than I anticipated.”

The man in charge, the only one not perturbed from the sight, smiled kindly at him. “From what I understood, time was of the essence, so I hastened my plans.”

“Not that I care,” Checkov said, standing up. “They’ll be here soon.” He tossed the keycard to the man. “Do you mind? They will be arriving soon.”

The leader caught the card with ease, and approached Chekov with quiet footsteps. “Of course.” Placing his withered hand on the juncture of Chekov’s neck, he applied the appropriate pressure, knocking the young man unconscious.  Turning to his comrades, he regarded each and everyone of them. “Well then, shall we retrieve my brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the original draft, Jim actually masturbated on Spock's bed. I was told that my yaoi riddled brain had read too much recently and was forced to rescind the idea. I apologize to those who would like that. I feel that this chapter is a bit choppy, though I'm not sure where. I'm a bit skeptical of my writing quality as of late, but I'm almost done! My hope is to have this story finished within 2 months. At the very least before new years. I need to get back to Game Over. 
> 
> As for a Sulu Chekov pairing. I don't really ship it and they aren't even real lovers in this. More like one night stands. I just wrote it in because it fit really well for plot purposes. It was going to be Chekov or Uhura. Sulu actually sexually harassed Uhura in TOS Mirrorverse so it wouldn't be implausible, but mirror Chekov is backstabbing so when a chance came where I could finally show that side of him, I took it.


	28. Mind Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having trouble copying and pasting today. If you see anything strange, let me know.

Cheeks still flaming red from his recent interaction with Spock, Jim's mind was filled with thoughts. He knew he had to solve the thing with Spock, but the turn it took by the end had been undignified. Climbing onto Spock's lap seeking comfort, just the thought made his face flame up with embarrassment. Whether or not he regretted it was a different story. Strangely he didn't, but gauging what to do now was something he wasn't looking forward to. If he released Spock...

The opening of the security room made Jim frowned, turning to Vo questioningly. The guard had mentioned the situation needed his attention, but being brought to the security room was unusual.

"What's going on?" Jim demanded, easily slipping back into a commanding persona. "Rebels?"

"Not sure, sir." A young security officer spoke up, his voice wavering. "Shortly after going to warp, we noticed that there was security footage missing from the shuttle bay. We also saw tampering with the system that disabled the alert when the shuttle bay doors opened."

"How the hell did none of you notice this sooner?!" Jim snapped, making the young man shrink in fear.

"Whoever tempered was good," a young woman, someone Jim had never seen before spoke up, sounding almost annoyed at him. Jim had to admire her nerve to speak to him like that. You couldn't be weak in security, especially when you were a woman thrown in with a bunch of wolves. Though she would so well to remember not to piss him off. "We only caught it when we noticed the missing footage and searched for additional tampering."

"So are you telling me," Jim said, his temper rising but keeping it restrained, "that there might be intruders on my ship?"

"More or less sir."

"Signal red alert and make an announcement to the crew that all personal should have a look out for intruders. I want every deck, checked. Meanwhile, run a scan to see if we can pick up unidentified personal." As Jim rattled off instruction, they followed through with them, the alarm blaring in the background.

Jim leaned over the ensign's shoulder, ready to give the instructions to the crew when the alarm died off followed by the lights and computers. It took a moment for the emergency lights to come, but Jim was already demanding answers as the security crew scurried around.

"It appears someone has taken over the auxiliary control room. Power has been cut from majority of the ship and turbolifts are lock, ship wide communications has also been cut off."

Auxiliary control? Jim wasn't aware of what exactly that was, not that he would admit to that, but he had a fairly educated guess given the situation and what the others were implying. He had memorized the schematics for the ship and knew where it was, but he had assumed it was some small control center limited only to engineering, not ship wide control.

Mentally, he cursed himself for assuming things. If he had known, he would have been more prepared for a situation like this. No, he wouldn't have allowed something like this to begin with. He didn't know enough. Serik wasn't there to tell him what functions were available on emergency power. How could he relay commands without ship wide communications? What could he do now?

"If it's a shuttle that came onto the ship, no more than 10-20 people could come aboard depending on the size. Maybe double if they managed to sneak two, but it's unlikely without someone on the bridge picking it up on the sensors even with the magnetic field of the asteroid field we were in," Vo said, taking over. "They're probably still on the lower decks. Send someone up the turbolift shafts to reach the higher decks and try to mobilize the rest of the security teams. Are the computers still inaccessible?"

"Yes sir."

"Find out what parts of the ship still has power and is accessible. Whatever they are after will still have power so they can access it. Arm yourselves and take extra phasers. If you find another engineer, grab them. If they cut off additional power, you'll need them to bypass doors. You don't want to hit something related to life support when trying to manually unlock them. Also, get a team to find out if we are still at warp or currently drifting. We need answers."

Jim felt useless, and it pissed him off. Vo was doing his job, and it was humiliating how readily the others followed him as if it was Vo who was captain. No one even asked for his approval. His fists clenched at his sides, though he kept his face carefully passive as Vo talked.

Vo glanced back in the corner of his eye, then fully turned to him asking, "Is that plan alright, Captain?"

Forcing a smile, he replied, "Couldn't have said it better myself, Vo."

Vo didn't beam with pride or look smug, instead keeping his normal skeptical expression and pulling his phaser from his belt and handing it to Jim. "The captain and I will search engineering and the lower decks to see what we can find out. We'll send someone up, if we find out something."

The other officers saluted them both, and Jim was pretty much stuck following Vo from the low light room into the corridor. To get to the lower decks they would take the Jefferies tubes. The enemy would expect them to take the shafts, and the tubes were harder to track without knowing the ship well. That's where Jim's knowledge in the tubes came in. Vo knew about his past activities of mapping out the tubes when he first came aboard. Very few people knew them better than he did.

"I apologize for overstepping my bounds, but they needed orders."

"Showing off how incompetent I am is a real confidence booster," Jim said coldly. "Are you sure you aren't aiming to be captain?"

Vo turned to him sharply, glaring at him. "Everyone on this ship has been gone through training and was educated for 4 or more years at the academy. You, who has no formal education background, has decided to take a position designed for a person with those 4 years plus an additional 10 or more years under his belt. You've done well captaining as you've have, but it's impossible to know everything in under a week, even with Serik's help or whatever additional things you learned beforehand. I don't expect you to. But I'm not going to risk my life while you fumble around in the dark trying to pretend you know something when you don't."

Jim glared back, "If you know that, then what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to do what you do know, the part that you excel at, the part that isn't ship related."

Vo's attitude was grating on his nerves, but he tried to push that aside to start thinking. Since they had been virtually stationary near the rebel planet, the intruders were most likely rebels. If they only have one shuttle, maybe two on board, they didn't plan to take over the ship, at least not right away. There were too outnumbered to do that by brute force. Meaning, there had to be another objective. The only thing they knew about the rebels, minus the location of some of their bases, was that their leader was most likely Romulan. Romulan...

"The Vulcans," Jim said slowly. "You think they betrayed us?"

"Wouldn't be surprised. Two of them are Romulan. If the former captain hired them, he might even be in on it too."

Jim disagreed. Spock wasn't on the Romulan's side. Spock had been too careful in protecting his people and had taken very calculated risks when pissing people off. If Serik and Sovik was involved, Spock didn't know about it. However, if the twins were involved, they wouldn't escape without Spock. "This Jeffery tube will only take us two thirds of the way. We'll need to exit this one and access the one on deck 1 to get to engineering if we want to stay out of sight."

"I'll follow your lead, Captain."

Jim entered the tube first, a bit uncomfortable with Vo following behind with the display he put on earlier, but right now, securing Spock was a priority. If the fucker was trying to betray him again, he'd make sure Spock never saw the light of day again, chained to his bed never allowed to leave. Jim almost laughed at where his train of thought had gone to. He had kind of been planning to do that anyway.

Well, he had to get to him first, at least now he had some motivation to hurry.

* * *

Serik peeked around the corner, back pressed against the bulkhead as he cautiously searched the next corridor. He had taken the opportunity to come down to engineering to see if he could narrow down Spock's location when the red alert activated before suddenly turning off. When no follow up announcement came, he knew something was off. Shortly after, he caught the sight of smeared blood on the floor followed by the sight of a body of an engineer the corridor after that.

Since then, he caught sight of two more bodies, moved from the main hallway. Due to the uncertainty of the nature of the strange events, he proceeded with caution. He needed information. He was heading to the auxiliary control room and the amount of blood increased in the hallways the closer he became.

It was just by chance he caught the reflection of movement off a metal door that he ducked just in time before a curved and hooked sword beheaded him. Serik lost his balance, stumbling into the corridor leading to his destination and out of his hiding spot.

His attacker was someone he had never seen before. A Romulan from the looks of it, wearing a heavy brown cloak. His dark black hair was a tangled mess even in its braid and his face looked covered in dirt. In each hand, he held a sickle like blade. How did a Romulan get on board?

"Rihanha? Hrrau na loann'na?" he asked confused, his brow furrowed.

"I lihr I Vuhlkansu." Serik replied back.

"Vuhlkansu? Hru'hfirh Spo'k'hat'n'diawa?"

Serik's eyes narrowed. Why was he looking for Spock? The room wasn't far. He could make a run for it. This Romulan was trained. There were few who could sneak up on him. He'd need a weapon if they were to fight on a level playing field.

"Hru'hfirh Spo'k'hat'n'diawa," he said again, lowering his weapon just slightly.

Serik took the opportunity to dash for it. The Romulan seemed to think he was Spock, he wouldn't deliver fatal blows.

"Hru'hfirh!" the Romulan called out to him. 50 yards down the hall. Serik sprinted for it, pausing only to input the code to get into the room. As the door opened, Serik was grabbed and thrown to the ground, barely able to see who it was before he was flipped onto his stomach and his hands bound.

"Sir, Sybok, we released the sleeping gas on the upper decks."

"All power minus life support has been cut from decks 3 and above."

"Brig has been checked. He is not there. Nothing in the databanks about his death either."

Sybok, Serik thought, craning his neck to see something other than his subduer's knee. He could only see the back of a tall, thin man and the cream-colored cloak he wore, but it was enough. He recognized that silhouette. "Sybok."

He had only uttered the name, a whisper under his breath, but Sybok still turmed, smiling gently at him. "My, isn't this a surprise. I would have never thought to see you here, Serik."

The familiarity from the older Vulcan sat ill with him, and Sybok didn't seem to notice, laughing joyfully. "What am I saying, of course you would be here. Spock is here after all. Pray tell, where is my dear younger brother?"

"As Serik, servant of the House of Surak, I have no obligation to answer the queries of the exiled."

Sybok's smile turned sad, and he shook his head. "Of course, forgive me. I forget how strong willed you are." He turned to his subordinates and proclaimed, "release him."

Without hesitation or question, they did as Sybok commanded, undoing his hands and backing away.

Serik sat up slowly, taking the opportunity to look around the room. Twenty occupants including Sybok. Only 4 however he didn't recognize. The others were officers from the ship. Majority of them were previously Sulu's men, but the others were not. Despite them being officers, all of them had a look of calm to them, rather than the cruel, ambitious gazes they normally wore.

"Give us some room," Sybok said while removing his cloak and handing it to a waiting communication officer's hand. "Allow me to give you a proper greeting," Sybok gave him the Vulcan salute. "I will allow you to go first."

The room was small. Smaller than the bridge, but there was a decent amount of empty room in the center. The main machines used to run the ship were against the walls, stacking tall. They were bulkier than the ones on the bridge too, made to be sturdy to survive heavy damage. Sybok's men moved to the perimeter, leaving the center clear for Sybok and Serik.

"Is there any point when your men will proceed to subdue me should I win?"

"I am quite confident in my skills, but should you win, I promise my men will not interfere with you. I swear my honor upon it."

The moment the words left his lips, Serik had closed the distance between them, already pulling back his fist for a punch.

Sybok merely closed his eyes, taking a step back and using an open hand to direct the punch to the side, and countering by hitting a pressure points in his arms. Pain flared up his arm, making Serik hesitate for a fraction of a second before he could effectively block it from his mind. Sybok took that split-second opening to pivot on his left foot and used the back of his elbow to strike the side of Serik's face.

Serik backed off, taking the time to recuperate from the attack and reassess his opponent who was smiling at him like a proud father. "Wise choice to retreat. Your experience shows."

Refusing to comment, Serik swallowed the blood in his mouth. How could he attack him?

"It brings back memories, doesn't it? Training in the hall under the Vulcan sun? Though back then you were much smaller."

"Nostalgia is a pointless activity, and I have long outgrown your teachings."

"Reminiscing about the past can be useful. It can allow us to reflect on our sins, our regrets, and give us a chance to heal," Sybok took a few steps towards Serik.

"You're mind games will not work on me." Serik once again closed the distance this time, grabbing Sybok and tossing him over his shoulder.

Sybok hit his head on the impact, but barely let that affect him, having grabbed Serik's arm during the toss and refused to let go. He pulled Serik down while rotating his hips up so that his legs wrapped around Serik's neck, trapping him between his thighs while he pulled on Serik's arm, dislocating it then releasing him all together, rolling away from him.

"That was a nice move, Serik. You've practiced a lot, but your logical mind betrays your next move, making you very easy to read and counter." Sybok got off the ground immediately, but Serik was much slower with the injury. "Call the fight, Serik. It is pointless to continue. You are outmatched."

Skill. Patience. Perfect execution. Serik couldn't read him. Sybok moved at the very last second before retaliating, giving Serik no time to counter attack. With his shoulder a mess, his attacks would be slower and much weaker. How could he win?

"You were never one to give up. Ever since you were little, when Sovik would come home crying, you acted strong enough for the both of you." Sybok closed his eyes again. "I can see it. You regretted it so much. Hated how your mother treated Sovik. He was headstrong and willful, just like I was. He had much difficulty blending into Vulcan society."

"Remove yourself from my memories at once," Serik nearly growled, getting to his feet.

"It tormented you, didn't it? Tore you apart when Sovik came back from a healer. His mind tampered with so he would better conform. He's personality distorted, his memories slightly altered. He was your brother, but not quite, he wasn't the same. It wasn't the dear brother that you loved so much."

"Get out of my head!" he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. When did Sybok slip past his shields? He hadn't even noticed. Perhaps during the instances when his mind was dealing with the pain inflicted on his body. That didn't matter. He could see the past as if he was reliving it.

He was in the bedroom that he shared with Sovik. On the balcony that overlooked the city of Shi'Kahr. The sunlight warming him as he leaned against the railing. He looked up at the sound of the opening door, his heart lifting upon the sight of him. He wanted to show Sovik the equation he had been working on. It was two years ahead of their coursework and would surely gain the approval of their instructor.

But the rather cheerful Sovik wasn't who walked through the door with a shy smile on his lips. An imposter with apathetic features had walked in wearing his brother's skin. "Brother," was all he said.

"Did you see a healer?" Serik asked, coming back into the room. "You do not seem well?"

"In contrast, I am in optimal condition."

It wasn't right. He went up to Sovik, lifting his hand to meld with him. With haste, Sovik slapped his hand away.

"What are you doing?" Sovik asked. "I did not give you permission."

"I did not ask for it. We have never asked. We do not keep secrets from one another."

"A childish notion," Sovik went to his side of the room, undressing.

What had they done to him? Without thinking, he shoved Sovik onto the bed, forcing his hand to his meld points against his brother's struggling. His fingers had only brushed the psi points, but it was enough to know that his brother's mind had been tampered with. Heavily and against his will.

Sovik managed to gut him and shove him off, running from the room.

"What did you do after that?" Sybok asked.

"I...I went to my mother to ask what she had done." Serik responded, watching his younger self traverse his childhood home to his mother's study.

The young Serik entered without permission, earning the disapproving stare of his mother. "What have you done to Sovik?" He asked, borderline demanded. His emotions were barely in check on the verge of bursting. "His mind has been tampered with."

"He has been helped. His emotional tendencies shall no longer interfere with his journey to follow the Vulcan way." His mother tall, slim and beautiful. Unlike the traditional black, her hair was a light brown and her eyes closer to gold than brown. She stood out as a Vulcan and had attracted the eye of their father, now deceased. "He will no longer stand apart from his peers."

"It was against his will."

"He has another appointment that will ease the stress on his mind from the change." She had spoken so easily about it. Her obsession for them not to stand out, not realizing how unVulcan that behavior was herself. She didn't seem to notice or care that she someone mind rape her son to fit the image she desired.

"Do not send him again."

His mother regarded him until finally she said, "I will consider it."

"But she did send him back, didn't she? Multiple times." Sybok said sympathetically.

"Yes."

Sovik was basically a machine, only for his instability to leak out in his dreams as he screamed and cried. Awake, he went through the movements. The only thing he showed any response too was Serik. He wouldn't allow Serik near him unless it was when he was suffering in his sleep. Then, Sovik would cling to him with a deathly grip begging him not to leave him.

Sovik's mental health continued to deteriorate. As the only evidence was Sovik's behavior when he was asleep, their mother paid little heed to Serik, brushing off his comments and asking if he was becoming emotional as well.

"What did you do, Serik?" Sybok asked him.

"...I killed her." Serik poured a tasteless accelerator into her food and fed it to her. From the shadows of the closet he watched her eat it, then stood as she coughed up blood and writhed on the ground. Afterwards, he pinned the death on a passing Starfleet officer. As officers were known for underhanded and malicious behavior, it was easy to get the Vulcan council to convict him. After all Vulcans couldn't lie and as the council saw it, he had no reason to kill her.

Orphaned and only 13 years old, there was little Serik could do on his own. His other family members wanted little to do with their half Romulan relatives. There was only one person who had offered to help restore Sovik's mind and remove the tampering. An ambassador who had happened to witness one of Sovik's breakdowns with his Vulcan wife. An ambassador named Sarek.

It took nearly a year to undo the damage to Sovik's mind. During that time, he was confined and in need of constant care. Serik in return strived to be the perfect Vulcan to turn talk away from Sovik to himself. His accomplishments, his status in the family, anything to improve their situation and treatment. If he had to sacrifice everything so Sovik could be himself, he wanted to give it.

But the guilt of his crime still weighed on him. Wasn't there another way? To go against Surak's teachings and take a life? It was nonsensical to worry about it now since he killed often in his line of work, but it was still there.

"You did nothing wrong, Serik. Protecting a loved one is only natural. It made you stronger, and Sovik, he remains true and pure doesn't he? Would you be able to live with yourself if you had let him decay into madness until his katra rotted away leaving a Vulcan shell behind?"

"No. I would never allow it," Serik said slowly, the muscles in his body relaxing as he spoke. It was not his fault. He had no other choice. There had been no other way at the time. There was no sin on his hands.

The grime and guilt that weighed him down melted away, and his body felt lighter than it had ever been. It really wasn't his fault. None of it could be helped. He had done the right thing. Sovik and him were always together. He couldn't let his mother destroy that.

"I too only want to help my brother. We can take him and Sovik away from here, and we can fight against the empire together. So," Sybok kneeled before him, meeting Serik at eye level, "will you help me?"

* * *

Jim jumped down from the Jefferies tube into the corridor, checking his surroundings before motioning Vo to follow. Vo jumped down, landing with an almost inaudible thud. Phasers drawn, they headed down the corridor. Vo took point, peering around corners before proceeding. Jim covered their backs, ensuring no one snuck up from behind.

Vo inhaled sharply when he looked past the last corner then relaxed, lowering his weapon. "It's just Phelps," he whispered, stepping out from cover.

"Phelps, glad to see you down here with us."

"Yeah," Phelps said, scratching the back of his head. Jim stepped out as well upon hearing the familiar voice. "Things have been confusing since the alarm went off then was cut. What's going on?"

"Majority of the ship seems to be without power, and we think there are intruders onboard.," Vo filled him in, still keeping an eye out. "You should join us."

"That's probably for the best," Phelps laughed, his grey eyes twinkling. "It's most likely some coup or something. Probably one of Captain Spock's lackeys that are still wondering around."

Something was off. Unease started creeping up on Jim the longer they stood in the hallway, something regarding Phelps. Jim's hand tightened around the phaser's grip unconsciously.

"Captain Spock," Vo asked. It was just slight, but Jim noticed that Vo had gripped his phaser tighter as well.

"Yeah. Speaking of the captain, where did you stash him away anyway? If they're after him, we should get there first."

With a fluid motion, Vo raised his weapon, aiming at Phelps' face. "There is only one captain on this ship, and it isn't the Vulcan."

Phelps' didn't lose that smile and the unease kept growing. Phelps had always had a rather cheery exposition, but this seemed unnatural, as if he was too happy. "Come on Vo, you know me. We've worked together for years. Stop messing around."

"You're right. I have worked with you for years," Vo's voice had gone flat and his eyes hard. "And you never once referred to the Vulcan with title when you weren't standing right in front of him."

Phelps hummed, his eyes drifting over lazily to Jim. "Lord Sybok wouldn't approve of violence, but in this case, I'll have to make an exception."

As the words left his lips, Vo shoved Jim hard, making the captain slam against the bulkhead.

Jim didn't even get the chance to recover before Vo had grabbed his arm and yanking him the other direction urging him to run, phaser fire flying everywhere. Other officers had stepped out from around the corners, firing at them. So Phelps wasn't really alone.

As they were crossing a walkway, Jim eyed another walkway below. "This way," he hissed, already jumping over the railing. He almost missed the landing, his foot slipping as he landed on the handrail, but thankfully, he fell forward. Vo wasn't so lucky, falling the opposite way and heading for a 30 foot drop to the floor below before Jim grabbed and yanked on his shirt, making him fall forward as well and landing on top of him.

Jim's head hit the ground as a result making his vision temporarily swim. He couldn't stop moving yet and both got onto their feet and scurried down the next hallway, turning at the first corner they saw and slipping into a room, locking the door.

"So he was one of them too," Jim whispered harshly and taking in the room they had escaped into. It appeared to be some sort of maintenance room with parts scattered all around.

"No. I know Phelps, and that wasn't him." Vo backed away from the door, taking a look around as well, but his voice sounded strained.

With closer inspection, using the light escaping under the door, Jim could faintly make out a dark spot on Vo's left side and pick up the scent of burnt flesh. "You're going to defend him after he shot at you?"

"We're fighting Vulcans. They tamper with minds remember."

Jim's mouth twisted unpleasantly at the reminder, but Vo was partially right. Phelps had never referred to Spock as captain before. So it really was Serik and Sovik behind all this "There's a vent just above the desk. We can use it to move around the floor and circle around back to that Jeffery tube we were heading for."

There was a bang on the door. "Take it. I'll hold them off here."

Jim scoffed. "If you think I'll thank you for doing your job, you have another thing coming." He was already shoving parts aside so he could get onto the table.

"Just go save your boyfriend already." At the word boyfriend, Jim lost his footing a bit, turning to look at Vo as if he had lost his mind. "Don't look at me like that Kirk. You think I didn't notice all the people you've been seducing kind of looks like Spock? And it isn't like you and McCoy argue quietly either."

Jim decided to ignore him, already in the middle of his climb. Vo smirked, returning his attention to the door and aiming. Why he decided to follow and protect Kirk was a mystery even to him. He was unstable, impulsive, and violent, but there was a charisma to him that couldn't help but pull Vo in. When he decided to support him, Vo couldn't help but think, it would be fun and it might be worth the headache that came with it.

Well, it was a shame he wouldn't be around to see what he would become.

The door exploded inward, and Vo pulled the trigger, shooting at the figures in the smoke.

Kirk and Spock was going to be one hell of a terrifying team.

* * *

Jim's confession had left Spock staggering. Nowhere in his calculations did he predict that the headstrong and stubborn man would admit to having feelings for him let alone be vulnerable in front of him.

Seeing Jim distraught, sitting on his lap, touching his skin, pressing his face against his neck and pleading for his forgiveness, the emotion that had proved rebellious previously returned with a vengeance, pounding against his shields.

What was it that wanted his attention so? Carefully, he brought down his shields, so he could examine it. It wasn't an emotion as he had originally thought. No. It was something he was not very familiar with. It was a bond.

Now it wasn't like he didn't have bonds. He had two, one with Sovik and Serik, but this one was different. Unlike the bonds with his Sa-mehks, this one was incomplete and unhealthy. It was not anchored correctly, as if it had been created spontaneously, and it wasn't properly cared for. It was very badly damaged. It should have broken down on its own. Spock had enough bad bonds in the past, and they had all dissipated on their own.

But knowing who the bond was too, he understood why it wasn't established correctly and why it had substantial damage. He had never once melded with Kirk. The bond had been created through physical contact alone. And due to the type of bond it was, a bond between lovers, bondmates, the need for direct mind to mind contact was needed to stabilize it.

That was it, wasn't it? The reason why Kirk and himself couldn't seem to leave each other alone. The reason why their libido seemed to dominate their actions. Without melding, the bond needed confirmation the other was there, alive and well, resulting in the need for nearly constant physical contact. And when he blocked off his emotions, he blocked the bond too, resulting in the side effects Kirk had mentioned in his rant. To Kirk's psynull mind, the block put it in confusion and showed the physical manifestations of a cut bond.

Kirk didn't love him. It was just the bond. An invisible chain that had linked Kirk to himself. The emotions and feelings were nothing but the effects that compatible minds had on one another. A t'hy'la bond. A bond that was to be hated and deterred from creating. It should be destroyed.

Even as he thought this, even though it was easy to snap the bond that did not have a proper foundation and in poor health, he was protective of it. Since Jim leaving his prison, he had attempted to destroy it three separate times, and found that he could not. He wanted to heal it, protect it. He wanted to firmly establish it so that it could grow properly because every time his mind touched that bond, he felt ...complete. Something dangerous indeed. He could only imagine the damage that could be inflicted on a bonded pair should one meet his/her demise.

There was irony in the situation. All this time, he was cursing his human half for his fascination with Kirk when it all came down to his Vulcan half in the end.

He really needed to destroy it.

Stealing himself, he attempted to touch and destroy the bond yet again. It required much concentration. If he ripped it out, even in this state, he'd do damage to his own mind. So carefully, he began to unravel its complexity. Each layer he undid made him more irritable and his conviction kept wavering every second. He needed Kirk. No, that was just a weakness he needed to cut. Kirk loved him. But those emotions were fabricated. Kirk was his. Kirk had betrayed him.

His hands began to shake as he neared the end of completing the task. It hurt. It was killing him. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? Why did this bond still compel him to want to be by Kirk's side and forgive him for his transgressions? The pain was nearly unbearable.

The opening of the door, snapped him out of the final process. That wasn't good. The urge to go to Kirk's side and fix the almost destroyed bond was strong. Consuming even. It wasn't the human emotions, but the Vulcan ones.

"I found him!" The man at the door yelled. It was a human dressed in heavy, winter like clothing, with fur sewn into the cloth around the neck and cuffs. The human had shaggy dark brown hair and a five o'clock shadow, and tanned skin.

"Young master Spock, we've been looking everywhere for you," the man said with concern, going to him. "Let's get you out of here."

Out? Spock thought, distantly.

"Don't worry, Lord Sybok, is waiting for you. He's already got one of your servants." The man held a key in his hands, moving to release the cuffs. "With your help, we could actually take over this ship." The man was overly familiar with him, talking to Spock as if they were old acquaintances, releasing his feet first.

So it was Sybok, was it?

"Once we kill that captain," the main said, releasing Spock's hands, "no one will stand in our way."

Spock grabbed the man's neck with his free hand, squeezing tightly. With what seemed like slow motion, Spock met the man's eyes, Spock's eyes nearly black. "You will not harm James Tiberius Kirk."

The man clawed at Spock's hands, digging into his skin and drawing green blood. Spock's grip tightened and tightened until not even a sound could escape the man then tightened some more until he heard the neck snap. He let go of the body drop.

Spock turned to the door where he could hear more people heading his way. Probably the people the man had called over. Bending down, he took the man's phaser rifle into his hands and released the safety. No one would harm what was rightfully his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So those who haven't watched the original Star Trek movies, Sybok is a very powerful psychic with the ability to enter people's minds without touching them and view the thing they regret most, he then helps them through this pain, which makes these people extremely loyal to him. Sybok was Sarek's son with his first wife.
> 
> The Romulan conversation goes like this:  
> A Romulan?  
> No, I proclaim myself Vulcan  
> Vulcan? Young Master Spock?
> 
> Yeah, I'm being lazy with the translations.


	29. My Mind, Our Minds

Jim could hear the firefight through the echoes of the vent as he crawled. It was a shame to lose Vo, but Jim couldn't bring himself to care over Vo's demise past a vague sense of disappointment. It was hard to find people like him. It would be a pain in the ass to replace him.

Jim had to rely purely on his memory to navigate the vents in the dark, feeling around and trying to remember how many side vents he passed before making the extremely tight turns. It took longer to reach his destination than he hoped. Holding his breath and pressing his ear against the cold metal, he listened for any approaching footsteps. Believing the way was clear, he slowly lowered himself down, dropping the last meter and a half to the floor.

He lifted his phaser, taking aim and checking for any one he might have missed. He managed to get a deck lower, but the necessary Jefferies tube to get to engineering was nearly at the end of the floor now.

The process of getting to that vent was slow. This deck seemed barren, but given there was little on this deck minus storage, there wasn't much of a reason for anyone to be here. He had come across one crewmember who he had shot down, caring little if he was friend or foe. At this point, Jim was willing to consider everyone an enemy.

A hundred meters away from his destination, he caught sight of a scene that did make him pause. It wasn't down his hallway. In fact, it was in the opposite direction of where he needed to go. He could cross the hall without being seen and continue on his way if he wanted. The small hitch that stopped that plan was the familiar figure wearing the engineering red convulsing on the ground wheezing for air, and the familiar white, lab coat with shaggy black hair to accompany it.

Jim changed directions with his phaser aimed, approaching the crouched figure. "Stand up and turn towards me, Bones. Slowly."

Doctor McCoy raised his hands with exaggerated slowness, carrying what looked like a stylus and needle in his hand. Who the fuck had needles anymore? His coat and hands were covered in blood, and there was some even smeared on his face. "Jim," he said with a hint of weariness. "Listen to me."

"Drop the weapon and put your hands against the wall."

"Jim just listen to me, he is going through pleural effusion. I can save..." Jim pulled the trigger and Bones was cut off by his own scream, clutching his leg in pain.

"I didn't ask. Step away, from him."

"Dammit Jim," he forced through gritted teeth. Bones was leaning heavily against the wall to keep himself from falling to the ground, still gripping the injury where the phaser fire grazed him. "If I don't fix it, Scotty'll die."

"You think I'm an idiot. Why would you be down here in engineering. If you were here on a call, you'd have your tricorder and med kit. I don't see you with either." Jim glanced at the needle in his hand. "What were you doing with that needle?"

"Trying to save him. He's running out of time."

Jim pulled the trigger again, this time grazing his shoulder. "If you don't drop the weapon, I won't miss next time."

Doctor McCoy glared at him, biting his lip through the pain and glaring at him. "I really don't have time for your bullshit."

Pulling out the plunger of the needle, McCoy practically fell under the weight of his injured leg as he collapsed to the floor. Jim didn't shoot, watching as the doctor plunged the needle into Scotty's chest. A soft hiss escaped from the needle and Scotty's breathing gradually returned to normal. Bones sighed with relief his forehead resting against Scotty's arm, cursing lowly.

"What are you doing down here, Bones?"

McCoy glared at the phaser in his hands, "Put that thing down, kid. If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it when my back was still turned."

Jim glared back, but still lowered the phaser just slightly. "Well?"

McCoy sat up, hissing when he agitated his wounds. "Scotty called me down here to talk about your Spock problem. He said you came to visit him again today and wanted my opinion on it. I barely got to his office when Scotty got a call from an engineer saying the power for majority of the ship went out. Scotty was escorting me back to the turbolift when some security guards attacked us. Next thing I know, we're running for our lives. Scotty had taken a pipe to the chest. The pleural effusion was probably due to internal bleeding from the trauma."

Quickly, Jim looked at Scotty. He was pretty beat up, but he was indeed still breathing and appeared to be alive. "Does he need medbay still?"

"Of course he needs medbay. Hell, I need medbay now thanks to you. Care to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"No time." Jim put his phaser on his belt and forced McCoy onto his feet, ignoring his pained grunts. "Leave Scotty here, and let's get going."

"Are you crazy? He needs immediate medical treatment."

Jim didn't answer just pulling him forward. "If he dies, he dies, but I don't have time to carry deadweight."

"Goddammit, Jim," McCoy yanked his arm away from Jim's grasp, stumbling and almost tripping in the process. "I ain't going to leave him behind." The doctor's southern accent was becoming thicker. "Not when there isn't a need to."

"I really don't have time for your stubbornness, Bones. Even if you got him to medbay, it won't do any good with the power out. We can't even get him a stretcher."

"Don't just give up either. He's your friend."

Jim's frustration was making him seriously consider shooting the doctor again. Maybe he should have just minded his own business. He opened his mouth to shout something at him to get him moving when he caught sight of Bones looking over his shoulder about to say something. Jim never got to hear what he was going to say. His entire body went numb and the world went black.

* * *

Spock stepped over body of an engineer, his body still warm and the burned skin was still producing smoke. He recognized the engineer. One of Sulu's men. Dead, Spock was unable to find out more. He would have to capture a live one if he wanted answers.

One thing was for certain though, something was going on in the ship. There was no alarms or security running around though. Actually, the only ones he had run into had all hesitated when spotting him, and their shots were meant to disable him rather than kill him. Sybok for some reason wanted him alive, and Spock was playing that to his advantage.

Unlike them, Spock did not hesitate, shooting to kill without batting an eyelash or thinking twice. The bond was weak. He had to go to Jim. He had to strengthen it again. It must be repaired. This line of thinking was what was impairing his ability to think logically. It had taken him five dead officers to work out a simple solution to his simple dilemma of lack of information.

The corner of his lips downturned in displeasure. Now that he was aware of the link, he could detect the small pulse of Kirk's mind. It was faint due to his attempted sabotage. Kirk was on the ship somewhere, and it shouldn't have been so hard to feel it. The knowledge was urging him to take that frustration out on something, namely Kirk's body and mind. He needed to reaffirm his existence.

No! Spock thought sharply, instructing himself to return to a proper line of thinking. These symptoms were sounding very similar to pon farr symptoms. Was this what a bond could do? He had heard from Serik how strong Vulcan emotions were and how deep they ran, he had just never believed it. His hands were shaking with need. He needed to find Kirk. It felt like he was losing his mind.

And then, the pulse was gone.

It was like being dunked in ice water without warning. Such an event would make a mind go into shock. There was a similar response. He could not feel Kirk and his mind wanted to panic. Where was he? Was he too late? How can he get to him at that moment? His breathing grew erratic. Kirk couldn't be gone.

Serik's training really was thorough, or maybe it was his heightened senses that alerted him to another's approach. Just as the new officer turned the corner, Spock had him pressed against the bulkhead, forearm against his throat, pressing his hand to his psi points and ripping the information from his mind.

The screams didn't even reach his ears. Kirk would have him executed anyway. It would not matter if he was in a vegetative state. He needed information. He had to get to Kirk's side.

He released the person once he collected what he needed, now having a good idea of the ship's situation. Sleeping gas was concentrated in the upper decks. Auxiliary control was steering the ship. Kirk had told no one on the ship of Spock's location minus a select few who is currently unknown amongst the crew. He also had an idea of where Kirk was now. Sybok had received a call to come to a room on the second deck.

It took every bit of his willpower to not just rush in head first. Rushing would not save Kirk, he needed to ensure his safety. In order to do that, he must think logically. He was outnumbered. His advantage was that he knew the ship layout and that Sybok's men didn't want to hurt him.

First he should eliminate the sleep gas. Prolonged exposure to the gas could cause breathing difficulties or kill. He was unsure the amount of time that had elapsed since it was released, so he should make it a priority. Serik and Sovik's locations were still unknown after all and their speedy Vulcan metabolism would put them in risk sooner than the humans.

In order to deliver the gas from the lower decks, there would be some sort of device connected to the life support systems. Being in engineering, the trip would be close.

Spock calculated the way to life support, getting off the walkway and maneuvering on top of the coolant tubes, crouched. Below he could watch the scurrying of officers trying to find him. When he had an opportunity, when their backs were turned and alone, he shot them, from behind, not even waiting for them to fall before continuing his journey.

Jumping up to a higher crosswalk, Spock pulled himself up. Steadying his aim, Spock turned his phaser to stun and shot at the gravity unit just hidden behind the water purifier. The machine sputtered as it sparked and short circulated. The power going off had instantaneous results. Curses filled the department from various places just as Spock's body became weightless.

Spock crouch, maneuvering himself to the underside of the platform and pushing off, heading straight down. Into the depths of the ship. Twisting in the air, he searched for those trying to get their bearing. As he had expected, there were a few guarding the life support systems. With the sudden loss of gravity, the effects on their mobility were obvious, showing signs of discomfort from what was most likely motion sickness and disorientation.

Spock shot the first one, dead center in the chest, knocking him out. It was too risky to use the kill setting in engineering, and thankfully, the officers knew that too. Spock summersaulted, so that he landed on a pipe with his feet to avoid burning his hands. He only touched down for a moment, immediately pushing off to his right.

The two remaining officers were struggling with the zero g. While it was mandatory training in the academy, they most likely were having trouble adjusting to the sudden lack of definite direction. It made them easy targets. Two quick shots, and they were out too. Grabbing onto a unit, Spock stopped his momentum, searching for anyone else. Not seeing anyone, he placed his feet on the thin pipe, pushing off gently, slowly drifting to the life support systems.

The computer system that controlled the unit was still operation. Spock gripped the console hard to keep himself from floating away. A few key strokes and Spock was surprised to find out that his code hadn't been removed from the system. Had Jim intentionally left it alone?

There wasn't time to dwell on it. The gravity would be turned back on soon. Knowing little of his brother other than that he was highly intelligent, Spock left the device attached to the air supply. Instead, he used the panel to scan for foreign air particles. The feeling of impatience trickled to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't help the idea that this was taking too long, that he needed to get to Kirk. His reasoning for doing this was cracking. The duration of 4.6 seconds to scan the air on the upper decks seemed to stretch on.

The results popped up on the screen and with skilled fingers, he locked on to the high concentration of the foreign particles. Entering the molecular formula into the computer, Spock began the air purification process. The entire process should take 9.48 minutes. The crew would still be out for hours, but their lives won't be in danger.

Just as he finished his work, he felt the immediate return of gravity, indicating that someone had fixed the gravity. Spock fell hard against the floor, spraining his ankle on the landing. The discomfort was a negligible issue. He must hurry. Maximum of 10 minutes. Kirk just needed to last until then.

* * *

Being stunned wasn't as fun as it looked. You'd think your body would go completely numb and after you wake up it'd be like getting up from a nap right? Wrong. Very wrong. Jim's head was pounding, and his body felt like a ton of bricks had dropped onto him, feeling heavy, lethargic, and throbbing.

He didn't open his eyes right away, instead listening around him to get a clue to where he was. He could feel heavy breathing on his face. The scent of alcohol on it made him think of Bones. He could feel his body heat too, making him extremely close. There was a slight wheeze to his breathing.

He could hear the movement of someone else in the room too, walking around, slowly by the sound of rustling clothing. A guard then. He would bet his life he was armed. No sudden movements would be the best way to avoid getting shot, especially since he wasn't bound.

Finally, he opened his eyes just a slit. His first sight was of Bones chest. His doctor's coat was missing and his T-shirt was ripped, showing the dark bruises that were blooming on his chest. He managed to meet McCoy's eyes, his cheeks stained with dried tears and face contorted in pain. The pain he understood, but tears. He knew Bones was soft, but.... was he tortured while he was out?

"I don't know anything," Bones gritted out. He sounded tired, but that sour disposition was stronger than ever. "So stop asking."

The guard walked over. Jim could only see the black regulation boots of a female office, but he had full view of the kick to the head Bones suffered.

"Now, now, Lieutenant Rand, there is no need to beat him. He's not lying. Isn't that right, Mr. Kirk?"

Jim hadn't heard anyone else in the room nor did he hear anyone enter. There was no hostility in his voice, rather it had the tone of meeting an old friend after a long time. He didn't answer, hoping to fake unconsciousness a while longer.

"There's no point of pretending to be unconscious, Mr. Kirk. Your mind is quite...dynamic. I was aware the moment you regained consciousness."

When Jim didn't respond, he continued, "I'm sorry about your friend. Ms. Rand had gotten carried away when questioning him. I had only arrived about a minute or two ago." The voice sounded closer. He moved like a ghost, without leaving a sound and it made Jim very nervous. Something about this man, was unsettling. "You have very loyal friends. I am surprised. Even helping through his pain of the loss of his daughter, he was still loyal to you. Though, I didn't do it to get information from him. I believe that no one should be have to be in pain."

Jim didn't say anything still and the man sighed. "Please, Mr. Kirk, do sit up. It is not polite to ignore the person talking to you."

Bones was groaning softly in pain and Janice Rand was hovering nearby, so Jim sat up, searching for the man who had addressed him. Sybok smiled at him. "There we go. Now, we may have a proper conversation."

"So you're the Romulan I've been hearing so much about," he said cautiously. The uncanny resemblance to a Vulcan was striking. Besides the unkept hair and the face filled with emotion, Jim could have sworn he was Vulcanian.

Sybok just smiled. "Mr. Kirk, I must say I am quite impressed by your feats." Sybok placed his hands behind his back. The same way Spock tended to do. "I looked up information on you while I was waiting down in shuttle bay. Both in the arena and on this ship serving your master, I was quite impressed. How you handled the rebels several hours ago was quite impressive as well. If I hadn't intercepted the admiral's orders to you, I probably wouldn't have expected something unusual about a federation ship wandering into our territory and prepared for it."

"There were people on that planet," Jim said.

"Yes. Those who wished to stay behind as a distraction. Mostly, the old and sick. You wouldn't let your guard down if no one was there."

"So you sacrificed your own people? For someone who hates the empire you sure like to use their tactics."

"No war is without cost, and gaining formidable allies and a constitution class star ship outweighed the cost. However, the loss of their lives is on my hands. I am aware of that." Sybok approached Jim, squatting in front of Jim so he was at their eye level. "I do not wish to make this any more difficult than necessary, Captain. All I ask, is that you hand over the Vulcan, Spock, and I will leave you and your crew alone without any more casualties."

"Is that right?" Jim said with fake interest. "I might part with the Spock on one condition."

Sybok looked surprised and delighted as he asked, "And what condition would that be?"

Jim lifted an eyebrow, replicating Spock's patented condescending look, "I get to kill him first."

Sybok blinked, then laughed. "Truly a vulgar one," Sybok's brown eyes looked past Kirk to a figure standing somewhere behind the human. "You were quite right about him."

Standing, Sybok regarded Kirk like an interesting puzzle. "Strange," he muttered. "Your thoughts are partially blocked."

"What?"

"Nothing," Sybok dismissed him with a smile. The constant smiling was starting to give Jim the creeps. "I was advised not to intrude on your thoughts, but it doesn't seem that you will talk civilly with me."

Intrude on his thoughts? Jim eyed Sybok's hands putting two and two together. Romulans after all weren't telepathic. Jim scanned the room for a weapon. It seemed to be an unused break room, with tables and chairs stacked against the walls.

"I would not recommend, touching his mind. There may be unexpected consequences." The familiarity of the steady, low voice told Jim exactly who was standing behind him. So Serik was in on it.

"And yet you will not say why," the patronizing tone of Sybok made him sound like an exasperated father. "We have already checked engineering as you suggested, yet no one has seen him. Our options are few."

Without a response, Sybok regarded Kirk. "What is your pain, Mr. Kirk? What is it that you regret?"

"I don't regret."

"Yes, you do," Sybok frowned. "Something about your mother perhaps."

Images flashed through Jim's head. Screenshots of his mother and her rape, of her deteriorating health, of her disappearance. A wry smile crossed Jim's lips at the memories. "No. I don't regret a single damn thing." What happened to his mother was in the past. He had long ago accepted that it had been out of his hands and beyond his power to change. It hurt to think about, but he held no regret.

Sybok frowned deepened. "You are a strange one. You have already accepted your greatest pain, and I cannot see it clearly. Are you truly psynull?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Staring him down intensely, Sybok responded, "I suppose you would not," slowly. "I am beginning to see how Spock got in trouble with you."

Hearing Spock's name was the chink in Jim's armor, reminding him of the recent problems, of hurting and betraying him. Sybok inhaled with surprise. "Spock?"

Defensive, Jim almost let his mouth run off. Maybe he gave himself away keeping it to himself as well. Either way Sybok was intrigued. "Why would you have guilt towards Spock, Mr. Kirk?"

Jim didn't look away from Sybok, keeping his gaze steady, but was unable to say come up with a retort.

"Well then, Mr. Kirk, I'm afraid, I am growing short on time. If you will not tell me, I will have to extract the information from you forcefully." Sybok extended his hand, scarred and boney, towards Jim's face.

Avoiding the hand, Jim grabbed onto Sybok's wrist, intending to grab him forward and deliver an upper strike to Sybok's jaw. However, there was a kink in his plan. He couldn't pull Sybok forward. He wouldn't budge, resisting the pull. "The thing about Vulcan physiology is that we are 3 times stronger than humans. It is easy to resist when it is expected."

Sybok instead pulled Jim forward. Jim's resistance was little to none compared to Sybok's strength grabbing a hold of Jim who practically fell into Sybok's lap at the sharp tug. Breaking out of Jim's grip on his arm was just as simple for Sybok as it was to force Jim to the ground, pinning his hands above his head and legs with his body.

He did everything he could to get Sybok off him, struggling futilely underneath, bucking his hips, trying to bite him, but all Jim felt was how powerless he was and make him realize exactly how much Spock and the twins had always held back to avoid hurting him. Knowing and experiencing was two different things. Even though Sybok looked thin, borderline frail, and untrained, he handled Jim like a misbehaving puppy.

"Relax, Mr. Kirk. This will be over quickly if you cooperate."

"Fuck you!" he shouted, redoubling his effort to escape.

"As you wish," Sybok touched the side of Jim's face.

Sybok's hands were so different from Spock's. They were rough and cold. Frantic, Jim tried to get away, but there was nowhere to go. He felt the trickles of something, a pressure against his head. It started as a discomfort that grew into a hammer against his skull. His mind felt like it was being sifted and being pulled apart.

 _Where is Spock_? A voice vibrated against his skull, searing pain coursing through his mind. He was himself, yet not. As if a foreign entity was forcing its way to merge with him. He was losing direction, losing his identity.

And then, the discomfort vanished, and the cold hand was gone.

Jim blinked many times before he even realized he was looking at the ceiling and the feeling of Sybok on top of him was gone. His mind was struggling to recover and refocus, trying to get his body to follow his minds instructions.

"Spock, you're here!"

The excitement in Sybok's voice and the mention Spock's name gave him enough incentive to get sit up. Nearly falling over as nausea overcame him, a warm familiar hand touched his back, helping him sit properly, supporting him.

Sybok was standing up himself, his jaw swelling but his face lit up with happiness. "My brother, we have been searching for you."

"How long did you meld with him?" Spock growled.

Growled? Still out of it, Jim tilted his head to look at Spock. Spock looked furious. Not just pissed off like Jim tended to make him, but murderous. Spock's body was staining with tension as he had a phaser pointed at Sybok.

"Barely 3.2 seconds," Sybok answered with confusion. Looking at the way Spock held Jim up, and the fury on his brother's face, it finally dawned on Sybok. "Until death do us part," he said almost wistfully, then looked at Serik. "I now know why you warned me against melding with him. A Vulcan's territorial behavior is something that should never be invoked."

Smiling, Sybok stood. "Though unexpected. I did come to save you, but you do not seem to wish to be saved."

"Your actions will cause the downfall of New Vulcan. How can you incriminate yourself by announcing your heritage and drag Serik and I into your schemes?"

Mind clearing, Jim sat up on his own, trying to ignore the electricity of Spock's touch through his clothes.

"Serik came to me of his own will," Sybok countered calmly

"You intruded upon his mental shields, brainwashing him," Spock nearly sneered. The lack of control was making Jim weary, eying Spock and Sybok equally.

"I have done nothing as crude as brainwashing. Despite the rumors that have no doubt made it to your ears, my ability does not brainwash." Sybok adjusted his clothing. "I merely help them overcome the root of their pain." He met Spock's eyes. "It is the individual's choice what they do from there. Many feel gratitude towards me for their liberation and choose to help my cause." With a hand he gestured to Bones. "Others choose to follow their own path afterwards. Sybok merely chose the former. It is of his own will."

"Leave this ship and do not return," Spock slowly lowered his weapon. "My debt to your intentions are repaid."

Jim wanted to protest. There was no way, he was letting him go after taking over his ship and brainwashing his people, but he didn't get the option to. Serik tackled Spock from behind the moment the phaser no longer threatened Sybok's life.

Spock reacted, throwing his hands out to catch himself from falling, but having lost the phaser after contact with the ground, the phaser skidding towards the tables. Serik had tackled him too low for Spock to throw him over his shoulder, leaving Spock no way for a counter until Serik went for his next move.

Jim didn't have time to watch them wrestle on the ground. Sybok had turned his eyes on him and there was very little space to run away. Trying to go up against Sybok unarmed wasn't going to go well for him. Jim knew that now.

Of course, in the confusion, Jim had forgotten about Janice Rand until she shot at him, the plasma fire searing his shoulder. "Stop," Sybok ordered sharply, raising his voice. "Do not kill him."

During that moment of hesitation, Jim bolted for the tables for Spock's phaser. Jim almost reached it until he was yanked back by the collar of his uniform shirt. Jim cursed, trying to jab at Sybok's solar plexus with his elbow, but as Jim predicted, it didn't work as it was an obvious move and Sybok turned his body so Jim would miss.

"I will not hurt you Kirk. I apologize for my behavior. I was unaware of your relationship with my brother."

"There is no relationship," Jim gritted out. Yeah, he had ruined any chance of there being a relationship. Why would Spock want him now? However, he couldn't deny he felt a bit happy that Spock had come to save him.

"I'm trying to make you an offer," even Sybok seemed to be getting frustrated with Jim's struggling, wrapping his arms around Jim to lock the human's arms to his sides. The phaser was just in reach of his foot. "I'll take you with us. Both you, my brother, and I can fight against the empire. We'd be freeing the galaxy from the empire's influence."

Jim laughed. "Yeah right. Me being the savior of anyone. I'm way too fucked up to be playing hero."

There was a loud smash behind them. Just out of the corner of his eye. Jim saw Spock getting the upper hand, having gotten on top of Serik choking him. Sybok didn't divert his attention this time, but this was probably the time he should have. Sybok screamed in pain, releasing Jim, who turned and delived a solid kick to the chest for extra measure. There was a phaser burn near the center of his chest.

Bones was leaning heavily against the wall with the phaser Jim had discretely kicked to him in his struggling against Sybok. "Fucking robots," the doctor muttered, wiping blood away from his mouth.

"Didn't think you'd have it in you," Jim muttered extending his hand for the phaser, ignoring the wound to his arm that had come to be from Bones' shot. Honestly, he couldn't feel any pain at all, despite knowing he had injuries.

Bones tossed it to him huffing. "You say it like I'm a saint."

"Maybe." Jim looked at Rand who Bones had also shot and the cause of the loud crash earlier. When she had fallen, her head had hit a replicator, breaking the glass screen and knocking over the metal chairs that had been stacked for the night.

"Jim, are you alright?" The sound of Spock's voice made Jim's heart sputter, and he inhaled sharply before looking at Spock. At first, Spock's wellbeing came to mind, and Jim searched him to ensure that he was alright after fighting Serik who laid unmoving on the ground, green bruises forming on his neck in the shape of handprints. Spock held bruises as well on his face and chest. Anger swelled in Jim until it receded with guilt when he realized it was he, not Serik, who had inflicted them on Spock from his temper the day before. Looking away, he pretended to survey the damage.

"Yeah, I'm fine. . ." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head. "...Sorry about Serik."

"He is merely incapacitated."

"That's good." The tension was thick and nothing Jim could think of seemed appropriate for the situation. What should he say? What should he do?

"Jim." Spock grabbed his elbow, making Jim gently turn his way. Jim refused to look at him, avoiding his eyes like a stubborn child.

"As touching as this scene is," the doctor said, face looking green that probably had nothing to do with his concussion and more about the overly romantic tension, "there's still intruders on board."

The intercom on the wall whistled. "Sulu to Captain Kirk. Sulu to Captain Kirk."

Nearly everyone in the room's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voice; however, Spock was the first one to move, answering the call for Kirk. "This is Spock. What is your message?"

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. Finally, Sulu spoke, though he seemed like he was trying to contain his anger. "Power has been restored and auxiliary control has been overtaken. Remaining security who hasn't been affected by the gas is being led by Farrell in a sweep to find the traitors and intruders. We have captured two alive and killed fifteen so far."

Aren't you also a traitor? Was what Jim wanted to say, but couldn't speak. The entire time Spock held down the intercom button, his eyes were still on Kirk as if he was Spock's prey.

"Have Giotto continue the sweep and tell him that the captain is currently having his injuries treated by McCoy and will be indisposed of for the next two hours. Check all security feeds for possible traitors."

"...yes, sir," Jim could practically hear Sulu grinding his teeth.

"And Mr. Sulu," Spock said. "When you are finished with your orders, please wait in the security office until the captain has had a chance to speak with you. I am certain the captain is unaware of your freedom or how you came about to obtain it. It should make a fascinating story."

"...yes, sir."

Spock switched the intercom off, still staring at Jim in a way that was making him feel hot. He felt like he was sweating under that gaze alone.

"Doctor," Spock said, walking back over to Jim. "Could you escort Serik to the brig? You are conscious now, are you not?"

Serik opened his eyes, his face still devoid of emotion. "Yes, nuri-trensu."

"Go with Dr. McCoy and go to the brig."

Serik sat up. His eyes seemed off as if he had lost his will. "My transgressions cannot be forgiven."

"Wuh'ashiv pon. Nash-veh ki'teslau tel. Nash-veh yontau olau-tor katra t'James."

Serik nodded slowly, standing. "U'du ishayau."

McCoy had picked up the rifle off the dead Janice Rand. For a change, McCoy didn't complain about being ordered around or what a pain the task was. His fatigue seemed to be enough to motivate him to leave.

Jim was on the edge of calling out for Bones to ask him not to leave him alone. He was nervous to be left alone with Spock.

Spock stayed rooted to where he was, waiting for them to leave. The moment the door closed, he was in front of Jim, extending his bare hand to touch Jim's face. Jim closed his eyes, but instead of touching the places Sybok had, Spock gently touched his cheek. "You are injured, but you do not appear to be in pain."

Feeling a bit stupid, he opened his eyes, seeing concern in the depths of his eyes. "Yeah, probably the adrenaline."

"It's the meld. He most likely deadened your senses so you could not feel discomfort," there was anger in his voice, and Spock clenched his hand. "He should not have touched your mind."

"But you can fix it, right?"

Spock's breathing stopped as if he was restraining himself. "I should not touch you either. I would not be able to restrain myself. Sovik would be the appropriate choice."

"I don't want either of those bastards touching my mind. It's you or I'm leaving it."

Jim found himself pulled forward, Spock's arm wrapped around his waist, until he was pressed against Spock's chest. "If I touch your mind, I will not be able to restrain myself."

"Spock," Jim said quietly, reaching for Spock's hand and placing it on his face. "Do it."

Spock's patience must have been extremely thin. He positioned his fingers over his psi points immediately the moment he had permission. "Trust me," he said. "My mind to your mind."

_My thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds are one. I feel what you feel. I know what you know._

Compared to when Sybok touched him, this was very gentle. Spock's hands were warm and the places that touched his skin tingled with small electric shocks that relaxed his cautious and paranoid mind. The reservations he held towards the meld melted into peace. The trickle of Spock's mind into his was a warm string of thoughts that danced and enveloped his in a warm caress. The warm thoughts entwined with his. He was himself, but he was not. He was also Spock. He didn't lose himself. He didn't feel like he was becoming lost or falling, instead he felt whole and secure.

Pain surged through his body the moment Spock fixed what Sybok had tampered with, collapsing in Spock's arms. The phaser burns hurt like a bitch and his head was throbbing painfully that it had him gasping.

"Sybok was forceful with his tampering. You are currently experiencing the pain Sybok had blocked. It will subside in time."

The urge to just bury his face in Spock's shoulder won out over his pride, trying to ride out the pain.

He still felt connected to Spock, in a way he could not explain. Being held by him, vulnerable and at his mercy should have put him on edge, especially since he knew Spock had every right to get revenge, but he found comfort in his touch. He never wanted to leave it.

"We can't do this," Jim whispered. "This is toxic. We'll kill each other one day."

Spock's hand brushed Jim's hair. "Indeed, we probably will. But for today, that is not the case."

Not today. A small smile flitted over his lips. That was a nice way to put it. Going one day at a time. No commitment. No need to worry about the future. Just him and Spock in the now. "I won't give up the captain's seat."

"I did not anticipate you would," Spock's fingers brushed the base of his neck, sending a shiver down Jim's spine.

"Will you be my first officer?" he choked out, trying to ignore the pleasure Spock's fingers left in their wake.

"I prefer scientific duties, but I am willing to part with them."

Jim chuckled. "You can be science officer too." Leaning back, Jim met Spock's eyes. "If you want it."

Spock raised an eyebrow. He didn't answer the question, instead rubbing his middle and forefingers against Jim's.

He wasn't sure what it meant, but if it had to do with his hands, it was probably important. The moment was so peaceful, Jim barely registered the pool of green blood on the floor and the body that was supposed to be next to it missing. When did he leave? They hadn't heard anything. Maybe during the meld? "Spock!"

He pulled away from Spock to attend the problem, but Spock refused to let him go, pulling him in his arms once more. "Leave him. He is injured and the ship is adequately secure. The probability of his capture is high."

Jim was going to protest, but the hungry look in Spock's eyes aroused his own desire. "If I am correct," Spock continued. "I still have an hour and forty-five minutes approximately of your time before you must attend to your duties."

Jim swallowed hard, his member growing interested in what Spock was suggesting.

"If I may have your time?"

Jim, deciding it was unfair for Spock to have so much control over him, answered by entwining his hand with Spock's and bringing it to his mouth, licking each fingertip before biting lightly on the tips. The noise that left Spock's throat, something between a growl and a whine, made Jim smirk. "When have you ever asked permission?"

Spock crashed his lips against his, keeping their hands entwined as he slowly backed Kirk to one of the tables. It was aggressive and bruising, not caring whether their lips became cut up and swollen. It was pure need. The need to taste, to breathe each other's air, to become one physically as their minds had once been.

Jim pulled away to breathe, but Spock refused to stop, trailing his kisses down his neck, making Jim laugh. Spock had the beginnings of a beard and it was scraping against his skin. Spock finally pulled away as well, seemingly unamused at Jim's laughter.

Fondly, Jim used his free hand, brushing against the five o'clock shadow rather fondly, tracing the strong jaw and the contours of his face. "You know, I think you should get a beard. Not a full one," his finger traced the outline of Spock's mouth. "Just here. I think it would look good on you. Give you a bit of character."

Spock's eyes sparkled with dark amusement. "Do you truly wish to discuss this now?"

Jim smiled, pulling Spock's hair to tilt his head back and expose his neck to Jim's kisses. "Not at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan translation  
> Wuh'ashiv pon- Not at this time  
> Nash-veh ki'teslau tel- I have to repair the bond  
> Nash-veh yontau olau-tor katra t'James- I burn to feel Jame's katra (soul/mind)  
> U'du ishayau- As you wish  
> Yeah so extremely tired as I said. There is only one chapter and an epilogue left.


	30. Chapter 30

By the time, Jim and sat through all the reports, the captain was exhausted. Worse yet, he knew he couldn't go sleep. It had been a long day, but there was still much to do. He'd have to pay Uhura not to change his reports as well. He intended to keep this embarrassing incident confined to the ship. No one would be eager to tell headquarters of this embarrassment and he intended to blame majority of the casualties on the rebel confrontation at the home planet.

Chekov, being the only survivor of the firefight in the shuttle bay, relayed what had happened. He said that he had noticed a virus that shut down the alarms of the ship that alerted them to opening shuttle bay doors.

Jim didn't ask why did Chekov had not alert security if he thought it was a problem. He had an idea that Chekov had something to do with the rebels getting onto his ship, but he had no proof. He had only worked with Chekov briefly and even he knew the kid did things based on whether he'd get a kick out of it or not. He had no loyalties.

Sulu on the other hand was in a hotter spot. A lot of the traitors involved with assisting the rebels were his people. Those caught assisting were executed on the spot. Sulu however, while freed from his cell by a rebel, had used his freedom to get a message to security about what was going on. Furthermore, there was no evidence he had even associated with his people during the whole incident. By technicality, the only crime he had been guilty of, was staging a coup against Spock, the same crime Jim was guilty of.

The look on Sulu's face however was priceless when the man spotted Spock standing behind the seated captain in his regulation blacks. Spock stared at him the entire time, and Sulu became increasingly uncomfortable. Jim purposely took his time responding just to drag out the meeting to watch Sulu squirm. It was fucking hilarious. Jim could even see the question burning in Sulu's eyes, wanting to ask Jim why Spock was there, but he never asked.

"Alright, Mr. Sulu, wait in the brig, and I'll let you know what I decide tomorrow morning."

Sulu's eyes dashed over to Spock, muttering a, "yes sir," before leaving.

"It is more than likely Mr. Chekov and Mr. Sulu are the cause of the current events," Spock said, the moment the door closed behind the salty Sulu.

"Really? Cause I am about 100 percent sure that it was them."

Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim, looking down at the seated captain. "Then why not sentence them for interrogation?"

"Even traitors have their uses as long as the benefits outweigh the risks. As long as they think they can get one over me, they won't feel the need to be smarter about their movements."

"Logical," Spock said nodding his head with approval. He then handed a PADD to Jim. "Here is the updated list of traitors and executions so far."

Jim read over the list quickly. 57 casualties and 12 being held and questioned as possible traitors. That was a sizable chunk of his crew. He'd have to request a few transfers.

"I am surprised you are fulfilling the captain's role with little difficulty," Spock said, taking the PADD away once he had finished.

"Serik had been giving me a crash course," at Serik's name, the air around Spock turned sour, though outwardly there wasn't even a muscle twitch. "Will you be speaking with him before I sentence him?"

Spock was quiet for a long time, fiddling with the PADD in his hands instead. "If you would allow me, I would be in your debt."

So, talking to Serik meant that much to him. Well, he had figured as much. "Someone from Starfleet is supposed to come and officially make me captain or something. I guess I could give you time to see him then."

"How gracious of you," Spock answered dryly.

"Now is that anyway to talk to your captain?" Jim grinned at Spock's barely restrained eye roll. The Vulcan was probably regretting his decision to follow him about now.

Standing, Jim stretched, feeling his spine crack as he did. "I guess I could forgive your tone, just this once."

Again, he could feel Spock's concealed exasperation as he flaunted his new status in front of Spock. He couldn't help the rush that went to his head. The adrenaline from the fact his master was now his subordinate was rushing through his body, and he wanted to abuse that power a bit more.

He walked up to Spock, placing a hand under Spock's chin, tilting the Vulcan's proud gaze down to meet his eyes. Spock was tensing from the contact in front of the other guards, but Spock was unable to do anything as he was the captain. Just a little more misuse of power. "However, I expect compensation in return for my generosity," he nearly purred. "A fair deal isn't it, for insubordination?"

Spock, gave his trademark eyebrow raise with a hint of condescension to go with it. "Shall credits do?" he said flatly.

Chuckling, Jim released him and turned it away. "I suppose." Spock knew what he was really hinting at, but leave it to Spock to deflect him by pretending ignorance while keeping his pride in front of the crew. Well there was plenty of time to establish to the crew that Spock was his toy that no one else was allowed to touch. It just might take a bit longer with Spock's interference. Stubborn Vulcan.

"Back to the matters at hand. Sybok still has not been found. It is possible he has escaped the ship."

"And whose fault do you think that is?"

Spock didn't answer.

Humming, Jim thought a bit more. "Well I should blame someone for it. . . send Kevin what's his name. . . Riley. Send Ensign Riley to the booth."

"Yes, sir," the guard left amused, leaving Spock and him alone in the room.

"Think you can come up with some reason it was his fault?"

Spock smiled, just a crack that made Jim's heart stop. "I am confident that I will be able to create a few possibilities."

Clearing his throat and feeling a bit embarrassed, he asked, "While you're at it, can help me with these reports too? I still suck at understanding them."

Spock went to his side and answered with a fond, "Of Course, Captain."

* * *

Their guest from Starfleet arrived two days later. During that time, 10 of the 12 that had been held for interrogation had been executed. Spock had headed the interrogations, insuring that there was nothing that was left unturned. The resulting paperwork had Jim constantly working and seeking help on how to write them. Including the casualties from the firefight near the rebel planet, that put the total casualty list to just over 100.

Considering that Starfleet expected Jim to fail, Spock was confident that the complaint over the number was to find some fault in how Jim handled the situation, but the backlash was not as bad as it could have been.

Once their guest's shuttle was in range, Jim gave him permission to leave. A part of Spock wanted to stay by his side, so he could hear what Starfleet was thinking. They would probably try to get one over the new captain. His demotion back to Commander was preferred to Spock. He wouldn't miss the captain's seat. He just hoped the demotion was accepted and the admirals would find something else to do with their time rather than determine other ways to harass him.

Still, this was most likely his last chance. When Spock entered the brig, only Serik remained. Sulu had been returned to his post the day before and Sovik was recovering in his room for the last day before he was to return to duties. It was just Spock, Serik, and two guards. The familiarity of the situation was not lost on Spock. Sovik had been in this same situation just months before.

Serik wasn't meditating as Sovik had been, instead seated on the cot with his hands folded, appearing deep in thought.

"So, he is really t'hy'la," Serik asked, mindful of the guards in the room.

Spock turned to the guards and motioned for them to leave. They looked at one another before following his orders. He'd follow up with Kirk to see if they contacted him as they should.

The moment they left, he responded, "Yes. I completed the bond."

"So you have made your choice. Is he aware of it?"

Spock was quiet a second longer than he should have been. "No. Knowing him, he'd react negatively to knowing he was trapped."

"And when your time comes, do you still plan to stay silent?"

"I will consider my options when the time comes, but I have made the decision to take the bond seriously and treat him as my bond mate whether he is aware or not." Spock took a step towards the barrier. "I did not come here to talk about the bond with Kirk. Give me your thoughts, Serik. Why did you betray me?"

"I never betrayed you, nu'ri-trensu. I believed I was helping you."

"You believed betraying Vulcan would benefit us?"

Serik looked up at him with sad eyes before he closed them to conceal his emotions once again. "Sovik and I raised you. I watched both Vulcan and the Empire mistreat you and undermine your abilities and worth. Banning you without planet or home. Still, amongst adversity, you rose up the ranks, gaining power and resources to help Vulcan, sending them money, directing the empire's ire away from them. And then there is Kirk.

"Without mercy, he took you from the captain's seat. He kept you hidden from the crew. I could only imagine what he had planned for you. He has shown that he is merciless. I could only assume he had you hidden to cause you harm away from where I could easily observe you. I was unsure of what would become of you or if I could help. Sybok offered an alternative. We could not run without support. Sybok was offering to be that support. If we went with him, then the three of us would no longer be tied to the obligations that have been our shackles for the past 25 years."

Serik opened his eyes once again, looking over Spock. "I took a calculated risk. I lost."

"Indeed you did... Should I send Sovik for your katra?"

"No. It would be best for my katra to be lost. My atonement for my crimes. It was an honor to serve you Spock."

Spock took off his glove and raised his hand, giving him a ta'al. "The honor was mine, sa-mehk."

Serik returned the ta'al.

Spock left the brig, ordering the guards back to inside. Sovik was waiting outside as well.

Sovik no doubt knew what Serik had decided, and there was no comfort Spock could give.

Sovik beat Spock to it extending the invitation, "Do you have time for a game of chess, Commander? And perhaps a cup of Vulcan tea?"

Spock found his shoulders sagging a fraction of a centimeter. "I find the idea...most agreeable."

* * *

The person Starfleet had sent was not who Jim expected. Sitting across from him was Hades, otherwise known as Prince Leopold. Why he would come all the way out here for something so insignificant was beyond Jim, yet here he was, sitting across from him waiting for Jim to sip from his cup of coffee.

"You seemed to have settled into your role of captain well," Leo commented, looking over the reports. "Though I can recognize a Vulcan's influence when I see it."

Jim's lips thinned with annoyance, taking the comment as a slight against him.

"Do not be offended Mr. Kirk. You have done exceptionally well even without factoring in your background. If you did not need help, I would have been rather suspicious."

"If you don't mind me asking, Leo, why are you here? It's a long way to come just to come congratulate me on becoming captain." Jim leaned forward, staring the man across from him down. "In fact, it was you who sent those missions on the rebels. All three of them in fact, which somehow, I was involved with. Now, I'd normally chalk that up to coincidence, but seeing you here makes me think otherwise."

The prince looked slightly amused. "Very perceptive of you, Mr. Kirk. Though I was not the one who put you on those away teams. That was Former Captain Spock."

"I don't know how you did it, but I'm sure it was you."

"I had no way of knowing if Mr. Spock would put you on those missions. After all, that would mean I would have to be able to see into the future, right?" A small smile tugged on the man's lips.

Unfortunately, Leo was right of course, so there was no way Jim could push the argument. Jim leaned forward, moving a pawn.

It was Leo's suggestion to play of course, just as it had been his suggestion for Jim to learn. He seemed pleased by his progress. Despite Leo's rather friendly nature towards Jim, Jim couldn't become completely comfortable around him. He still gave off an aura of something not quite human as if he was too regal or too refined somehow. Never once did that composure fade even when it should have. He never ate or drank the entire time Jim entertained him, and Jim wondered whether he really was human. There was no indication he wasn't, just a feeling.

"You have made Mr. Spock your first officer I see," Leo said as he multitasked between playing chess and reading over the reports.

"Is that a problem?" Jim asked, watching every muscle twitch to get an inkling of what he was thinking.

"Not at all. Commander Spock was very efficient when he was under Pike. Combine his abilities with yours, well, I expect great things to come. I am willing to take you both under my wing, of course in return I ask that you continue to do me some favors."

"Really?" Jim frowned. "And you think we need your help?"

"It seems your father's blood does run through your veins. Your father was named a traitor for aiding the Vulcan escape ships when his orders were to leave them to their fate. From the reports I read, you tend to have the same habit." Hades eyes had only glanced up from the board to him, but the intensity was like black holes. They made you fear of being sucked in and unable to escape, making you instinctively want to back away from them. "Not everyone in Starfleet will find that trait of yours charming, especially when you put a Vulcan prince one seat away from power yet again. Being in my favor will reap you benefits and extra protection."

"And cost us our souls apparently," Jim said bitterly.

"Hades has and always will remain neutral to the affairs of man," he said standing. "But it does not mean that he does not need help keeping the balance." He moved his King, checkmating Kirk. "Do not think of it as a leash, but an opportunity. For now, you are captain and no one, not even the emperor can contest that fact."

Jim stood as well. "Shall I see you out?"

"That is not needed, someone has already arrived to accompany me back."

The door opened as if on cue. A tall, porcelain skinned man stood in the doorway with long, dark green hair that cascaded down his back in waves. His lavender eyes landed on Kirk, and he smiled at him. There was something familiar about that childish smile and eyes that seemed too old for the man who owned them. "Prince Leopold, are you prepared for departure?"

"You know very well that I am." The prince turned to Kirk on last time. "I wish you luck on your endeavors, Mr. Kirk. You have a long road ahead of you."

"Yeah," was all Jim could say, still distracted by the appearance of the new man, unable to place a finger on where he had seen him.

The man bowed as Leo passed only straightening his back when he had passed fully by. Smiling at Kirk again, he said, "I wish you and your telsu a long life." Before Kirk could even respond, the man had turned and left to follow the prince.

Normally, the rude behavior would grate on Jim's nerves but this time he was just left in a state of confusion. His Vulcan was still weak but he knew telsu meant bonded, whatever that meant. Lover maybe? It was the only thing he could think of that might be the equivalent in standard.

He was still thinking about it when he caught Spock waiting for him in the corridor, and Jim couldn't help but smile at him. "Why Commander, you seem to have a lot of time on your hands if you're just waiting in the hallway for me, or are you plotting something already?"

"I had concluded my business, so I came to deliver my report."

Jim knew there was no report, so Jim tilted his head down the hall, "Let's go over this report in your room then."

Spock had never been one to outwardly show his emotions, but Spock had definitely taken his pent-up emotions on Jim's body. The moment the door closed behind them, Spock had practically thrown him on the bed, kissing him aggressively and refusing to take off his gloves.

As closed off as he was, he was still vulnerable. While Jim knew taking off his gloves meant Spock was being vulnerable emotionally in front of him, keeping them on was if Spock was saying that at that moment he needed a resemblance of control over his emotions, and Jim knew the reason why.

The craving to see Spock's hands hadn't subsided even after they laid together in the dark of Spock's quarters, under the covers. Jim traced the back of the leather with his fingers, wishing he could feel Spock's hands on him, but neither him nor Spock was ready for that level of commitment that would mean.

Seeing the time, Jim sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He needed to get back to his room. It was getting late.

"Are you leaving?" Spock asked even though they both new the answer.

"It's a bit too early to trust each other to that extent don't you think?" Jim pulled on his pants. He would take a shower in his own quarters.

As he went to pick up his phaser from the nightstand, Spock grabbed his wrist. "Jim, I wish to clear up a misconception before you leave. While I had gone with the intention of engaging in coitus with her, I never succeeded. I had wanted to prove Serik wrong, that I had not grown attached to you. After your interference, I realized that I indeed had attachment, and I had no wish to engage in anything sexual with Miss Kalomi."

Jim had never wanted to hear that woman's name again, and hearing it from Spock's lips made his mood turn extremely sour. The only reason he wasn't heading straight to the Tantalus Field and eliminating her was the sole fact Spock never went through with it. "I see," was all Jim could come up with to say.

"Shall I call Farrell to retrieve you?"

Turning on his heel, Jim looked down at Spock, naked and hair a mess with scratches from Jim's nails on his skin. "If your upset about Serik, you could ask me to spare him."

"Serik has no right to be shown mercy for his acts of treason. He knew of the consequences."

And there was that stubborn pride again. If Spock had conflicting emotions about sleeping with the man who would execute his father figure, he showed no sign of it. Only resignation that it would come and he had accepted it. He was being logical about everything as usual. Jim ended up leaving after that.

But he should have stayed, Jim thought as he traveled down the corridor to his own quarters. Spock was too prideful to admit his feelings. Even his insecurities about Serik's upcoming execution.

Life was full of insecurities and uncertainties. Jim wasn't sure where they would be tomorrow let alone a year from now. Whether he would ever trust Spock enough to spend the night together. Whether he would one day take Spock's life or Spock would take his. Whether the gambles he took to leave Sulu and Chekov alive would come back to bite him.

Spock deserved better than him. Even Jim knew that. He had left knowing Spock needed comfort. He didn't know how to give it, so he saw no reason to stay. Yet Spock still wanted to ensure he traveled back safely. He didn't know if he could ever afford to show the affection Spock needed.

He spotted Bones talking to Scotty in the hall, both pausing long enough to wave at him before continuing their conversation. Uhura was giving a lecture in the rec room he had passed to the new communication recruits that had just transferred, glaring at him but not pausing in her speech at all. The poker room where he and the security had played cards was nearly empty. His life on board this ship had changed him. He had grown soft towards some, merciless towards others.

And for the first time Jim realized something that almost made him stubble back from the shock. Even if they may one day try to kill him, he wasn't alone anymore.

He smiled a bit, entering the captain's cabin he had finally moved into yesterday and turned on the comm. Guess he had to test out Leo's word sooner or later. "Giotto," he said leaning against the wall, smiling even wider. He may not have been able to predict what was to come, but he sure as hell could throw in a few surprises along the way. "Prepare a shuttle."

"Sir?"

"A certain Vulcan is going to need it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking of adding an epilogue but the uncertainty of this ending kind of fits this story really well. Not sure if I will or not, but I hope you like it. I should go back and finish Game Over.


End file.
